#the real question is if i can get this done before my trip on tuesday

[jonsaslove]

okay jonsa prayer circle. i have written over 10k for the keep our love alive finale today after not touching the fic for months.

completion is near, writer's block is over, an update is pending and the audience will finally get what it deserves.

#jonsa #mine #i have never felt so bad about not updating before. #it's been seven months and it's the final part of a fic that when read with it's prequel is already 130k #but the end is near i can taste it #i'm at around 20k for this chapter now and that's probably around halfway #which seems like i have a long ways to go #but i have this outlined to DEATH #i know every scene that needs to happen exactly #and i've never been on such a roll with my writing #the real question is if i can get this done before my trip on tuesday #now that would be a miracle

[dual1pa]

drive-in movie (part two)

content: extreme smut. p in v sex, cunnilingus, spitting, swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), steve being cute as always 18+ READERS ONLY

read part one here

steve harrington x reader (with she/her pronouns)

have a fic idea? send it my way and i shall write it for you

she ran to the window to wave to her boyfriend one last time before he drove away. it sounded tacky, but when she was away from him, she missed him, even if she had just seen him.

she put her pajamas on and took off her favorite necklace that steve gifted her for her birthday last year. she kept it on her bedside table and laid on the frame of a picture of them when they took a trip to the beach back in last summer.

she went to bed dreaming about a potential future with steve, as she did every night.

*

she woke to her mother quietly knocking on her door.

"sorry to wake you, sweetie, wanting to let you know your father and i are going into the city and won't be back until Tuesday night. you're more than welcome to join us if you like," she smiled.

she stirred more awake now at the fact that she will be alone for two days, "hmmm, i think i'll stay here. thanks for the invite though."

"i figured you'd say no, but it would be rude if we didn't invite you, go back to sleep, we will see you in four days," she blew her daughter a kiss as she smiled to flip over and go back to sleep for a few hours.

when she woke a few hours later, it was still mid-morning. she did her typical morning stretch as she remembered that she was alone for a few days. which means, steve could stay with you for the remainder of your parent's trip.

you flipped over to reach the phone to call steve, who was probably already at work.

"family video this is steve, how can i help you today?"

"i'll never get tired of calling you here and hearing your cute work voice," she twirled the phone cord in her hand.

"i'll never get tired of you calling here and bringing my mood up," steve said through the other line.

"so, i have real good news. my parents are going away for two days and i have the entire house to myself, which means... no one could ruin the mood," she clenched her thighs just thinking about being alone with him.

"oh yeah?" he questioned.

"just get done as soon as you can, and bring a movie for us to watch."

"yes ma'am."

"Harrington! You better not be taking personal calls on that phone! It's for business purposes only," she heard his boss, Keith, in the background giving him shit, once again.

"Fuck, babe, I gotta go. I'll see you tonight, I love you!" he hangs up fast before she could respond.

She bit down on her lip and hopped out of bed to open her window to let the warm summer air in. She flipped through her countless records and picked one to put on while she showered. She hummed the tune of Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill" as she massaged shampoo and conditioner in her hair.

She loved the feeling of being alone when her parents were gone, especially in the summer. The weather was nice (for the most part), it was quiet in the neighborhood, she could do whatever she wanted by having the music loud, and the best part: having steve sleepover.

Sure, there would be times when he would sneak up into her room but he found it quite difficult to climb up to the second floor using the small ladder for plants, but he managed.

She wrapped a purple towel around her body and put wrapped her hair in another as she sat on her bed to paint her toenails, softly humming to the music.

*

Throughout the day, she cleaned the house to make sure that it was perfect for Steve. Sure, Steve has been in her home plenty of times when it was dirty, but he was a guest that was staying over the night (or more). She ran to the grocery store to grab snacks for the movie and then made it back in time to expect steve.

right as expected, he pulled into her driveway at 6:30 on the dot. she couldn't wait any longer to kiss her man. she ran out without shoes on to greet him. he wasn't expecting her when she jumped into his arms after he locked his car doors.

"woah! hey there," she cut him off with a kiss, "what was that for?"

"what? a girl can't be happy to see her boyfriend?"

"of course, but you couldn't wait five seconds for me to get into the house?"

she shook her head, planting one more wet kiss on his lips before jumping off of him.

"what movie did you bring?" she asked, walking up the steps to her front door.

"movies," he emphasized on the plural, "got the fly, ferris bueller's day off, the breakfast club and friday the 13th."

"a variety," she responds.

"well yeah, you love horror and comedy had to please my girl in more ways than one," he smacked her ass as she opened the front door.

she turned around and locked the door. when she turned back, steve pushed right up against her, instantly wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"what do you wanna do now?" she asked.

he lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, "i can think of a few things I wanna do," he kissed her passionately.

she held on tight as he took her upstairs and slammed her door shut with his leg. he placed her softly on the bed slipping her shorts and panties off first. he kneeled down on the carpet and moved her legs to rest on his shoulders as he admired her pussy. her fingers comb through his hair as he starts kissing up her thighs, finally reaching the point where she needs his mouth the most. he licks a stripe up her hole to her clit and begins sucking on her bundle of nerves.

She let out a loud sigh as her climax will building... fast.

"steve.. steve, stop I'm gonna come, fuck," her mouth gaped open, not really wanting him to stop as she pushed his mouth on her clit harder. He inserted two fingers just to tease her, which actually broke her. her moans got louder and louder as she reached her high. she tried her best to close her legs, only for steve to pry them open as her clit became too sensitive. he left her clit with a pop and kissed his way up to her lips. she could taste herself as he licked his way into her mouth. her hands pushed down his pants and underwear to feel his fully erect cock.

"so needy for me," she took control.

"mhmm..." he said. she wasn't even sure he knew what she was saying as his eyes were closed as he continued to kiss her. she lined himself up with her entrance and whispered to him to put himself inside of her. she groaned into his ear... he knew he hit the spot that drove her crazy.

he wasn't going to last long as her moans filled his ears whenever he thrust all the way inside her. her moans were music to his ears. she reminded him constantly that it was only him that could ever make her feel this way.

"keep going... keep going... oh steve!!" she said.

those words could have him busting in seconds, but he needed to hold out so she could come first.

she felt his cock balls deep inside her as she felt her second orgasm of the evening coming on. her nails scrape his bare back as their clothes were excluded at some point of their assault on each other.

he grabbed her mouth and pinched her lips for her to open them as he spit into her mouth, she groaned at how much more she was turned on from that.

he had never done that and was a bit afraid she wouldn't like it, but he was mistaken. beads of sweat form on their foreheads, but disappeared when they put their foreheads together.

"please tell me you're about to come, because, i don't think i'll be able to last any longer,"

"come in me steve, please baby." she mentally thanked God that she was on the pill.

he let out a long moan, as did she, as they came together. he collapsed on her chest as she massaged his back. his breath hit her chest as the two of them stayed connected for a while.

since they were sweaty, they decided to take a "quick" shower, even though they ended up fucking a few more times in there.

"i'm starving," she fell onto the large soft couch in the living room and turn on the tv, flipping through the channels hoping to find something good to watch.

"want me to call and order some pizza?" steve asked as he reached for the phone.

"ugh, yes. pepperoni please?"

"anything for you, sweetie," he said.

he quickly ordered and the two of you, after a careful decision, started with a scary movie.

when you got comfortable underneath the warm blanket, the doorbell rang as the pizza has arrived.

*

the rest of the evening consisted of heavy makeout sessions, pizza eating, cuddling, jump scares and laughs.

#steve harrington #my writings #my writing #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington smut #joe keery #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #stranger things 4 #st4

[tripleyeeet]

*puts on a very vampirey outfit before tapping the microphone*

HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME BACK TO TUESDAY INTERVIEW - HALLOWEEN EDITION!!!

I'm your host Annie and today I'm once again here with out beloved and spooky Summer!!!

First and foremost! Last Saturday we had the newest update to A Lover's Folly, one that we were waiting with bathed breath after the heartstopping cliffhanger of the previous one! Finally, our hearts can rest in peace, even though many have been broken even more by this chapter...

"AAOAUGJGHGHHHH I AM EXPLODING INTO A MILLION PIECES I AM VISCERA ON THE GROUND ABOUT THIS. AUGH" - @morkify

#i am devastated - @lynnlovesthestars

"SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP THIS IS EXCELLENT" - @ermlady

Summer, how do you feel about this most visceral reactions? Are you flattered, sorry or joyous that you've caused us even more pain despite also the great joy that you brought on us?

Moreover, you did share the list of your current wips which, I must say, are quite many. But the real question is: which are you most excited to write, as of right now? which do you think will be most challenging above the others? and which, do you think, will break our heart even more?

Now, to the important things, HALLOWEEN IS HERE!

So, our dear Summer, what would be your perfect Halloween costume and party and day? I'm sure everyone is curious to know! (and even if they aren't, I am and I would like to know)

HI I'M FINALLY ANSWERING THIS <3 sorry i'm so bad at tuesday interview lately i promise i'll do better.

to answer your questions, i'm very happy that chapter of lover's folly is done. not because i didn't like it but because i definitely felt bad for that cliffhanger. it was evil and totally not my intention to take a hiatus immediately after but unfortunately that's just how the timing worked. :') honestly, i'm just glad it's hurting people's feelings enough to get a reaction. i'm such a slut for readers yelling at me in the comments for the things i've put them through. (as you know hehe)

for the wips, i uh, yeah. i have a lot. i wrote a more in-depth list today to kind of solidify the ones that are coming sooner but i think the one i'm most excited for is rage is a quiet thing which is more of a character study on astarion than a fic. it'll follow kind of his psyche throughout the events of the cazador confrontation with perhaps a little bit of flashback action depending on the layout but overall it'll definitely be heartbreaking because i feel like it's been forever since i've written some really good angst.

and uh, i think my perfection halloween costume would probably be nadja from wwdits? i was going to be her this year but then all my plans fell through (my dream halloween plans are just a small house party, love those) and i was just too broke after my trip to buy anything worth just sitting around at home for. so, maybe next year? :)

<3

#asks #tuesday interview

[joe9cool]

Collide-Justin Herbert-22

A/N: This is fiction, I do not know the LA Chargers or anyone associated with them.

Sunday night football was something else.

AnnSophie and Sara were once again at Joe and Alisha's house. It was them and a few other castmates. The food spread was ridiculous. The drinks were pouring and it was only pregame.

This was a big game for the Chargers. She had been on twitter and saw Emmaunel Acho call Justin a 'social media quarterback' followed up by a dumb song. 

She was a hothead, she didn't like people she loved getting critiqued plus he was taking it too far in her opinion.

The first period was frustrating. But the good news was the Chargers defense was holding up really well. Joe echoed Sara's thoughts. "Our defense is actually good, and now our offense can't get shit done. Fucking Lombardi." Joe muttered before taking a shot.

One thing she learned quickly was that no real Chargers fan liked the Offensive Coordinator. Even Justin expressed severe frustration at moments. Well he never spoke about it openly to her, but she knew. The second period things started happening as Justin threw a touchdown pass to Mike. The whole room erupted in cheers! "Fuck you Emmanuel!" Sara hollered as everyone laughed. Okay, maybe she was feeling the Truly's she was drinking. She went over to the snack table and began to fill her plate up. She saw AnnSophie in the corner on her phone. 

"Who are you speaking to?" Startled, her friend almost dropped her phone. "What do you mean?"

Erika joined the girls and spoke. "You've been glued to your phone the entire night. I'm surprised you're even here. You don't care about football." Sara didn't tell Erika about AnnSophie's past with Joey. It wasn't her story to tell.  She went back to the question at hand. "So who is it?"

AnnSophie shrugged as she slipped her phone into the pocket of her jeans. "It's my agent, I have to be up early Tuesday to shoot the Ralph Lauren campaign. It was suspicious, her friend was smiling and giggling the entire time. Sara decided to just drop it. "It sucks that you're leaving tomorrow. I know it's selfish of me, but stay an extra week"

AnnSophie laughed. "I wish, but my mom and step-dad are bringing Lexi up to NY Tuesday. I'm going to try to get in contact with George about taking her another time."

This time their other castmate Samira stepped in. "Jesus, I'm sorry he's a damn deadbeat. He was the one all excited about having her, then he cheats on you and doesn't want to be a dad because you broke up with him."

AnnSophie shook her head. "It is what it is. I've decided that if he doesn't shape up by the end of 2023 I want to pursue full custody. I have saved all of the texts and proof that he is an absent father, and that Lexi would be better off without him. I mean all he did was throw her a birthday party and didn't even spend time with her?"

Sara sighed. She felt so bad for her goddaughter. She deserved a dad who would put her first. 

Erika cut in. "Well we will see you soon! You will be coming back in April for filming of the show. Everyone will be reunited, speaking of coming back. Sara, Justin knows you're leaving on January 5th? That's less than a month away."

She was stunned, that was out of left field. "I mean obviously we discussed it. We are doing long distance. I won't be gone the whole three months. I will be back at the end of January for the Fenty show. That's what? A week? We could spend time together."

Erika shook her head. "Yes but the Fenty fashion show has press. There's a pre show dinner you must attend. Plus Justin won't be in the playoffs. He probably will be in Oregon, or on a boys trip. I don't see how you can make it work

Maybe it was alcohol, or that her best friend decided to be out of pocket all of the sudden. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

Erika took a sip of her drink. "I'm just saying, you've only been together for what? Six months? And I know you've been working on your issues, but I'm just saying. I don't think it's gonna help that you're far away."

"Well we've matured alot, and now it's none of your business." Sara was clenching her plate, to the point where everything almost spilled over. Erika rebutted. "Well it is our business. We don't want to see you all heartbroken like Harry."

"Who the fuck do yo-"

"TOUCHDOWN!" The guys yelled. Samira grabbed Sara. "Okay guys let's get back to the game!" She didn't realize how much time had passed. They were at the end of the second quarter and Ekeler had managed to get the Chargers in a comfortable lead.

She saw Erika out the corner of her eye sulking in a corner. What the fuck was that about? It was supposed to be a good night and here she was trying to start a fight. Now granted, Sara and Erika had many fights over their twelve years of friendship. But it was always resolved quickly. What was all of the sudden so pressing? Especially when she thought about that incident in New York in front of her fans. 

During the end of halftime, Sara approached. "Hey" She stopped when Erika stood up straight. "I don't want to fight, and I apologize for the aggressive tone. But I just want to talk." Erika relaxed. "I'm sorry Sara, I was just upset." Sara was confused. "What is it about me and Justin?" Erika rolled her eyes. "It's not always about you and Justin okay? I'm going through personal issues with my family. But I always listen to your problems."

Sara was stunned. "Erika, I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. We just tell each other everything and that's how it's always been. You know you can just vent to me whenever you feel like it. Just call me up and say you need to talk about your family."

It was what bonded them together freshman year of high school. Erika's family wasn't wealthy, and her dad was too prideful to ask for money, even though the Wozniak's would offer to help them he would always refuse. Sara would always have Erika at her house for dinner, and make sure to give tons of leftovers for her parents and brother. "Erika, is it money or something they need?"

Her friend shook her head. "No, you pay me more than enough to send them some money. It's just my parents are always fighting, when I came home for Thanksgiving things just got worse. I think they might be heading for a divorce."

Sara hugged her friend. "Erika, I'm so sorry. Please don't feel like you can't tell me anything. I've been selfish, so wrapped up in Justin I haven't been talking to much outside of work."

Erika smiled. "I could have just sat you down and told you." Sara nodded. "Well AnnSophie leaves tomorrow. Why don't we have a day Tuesday where we just hang out? No work, no boys, nothing."

Erika smiled and looked at the television behind them. "You're gonna be exhausted after celebrating this win." Sure enough. The guys were hollering as the Chargers made a good field goal. Sara smiled. "I'll make sure to be energized for tomorrow."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Alright guys tomorrow is Victory Monday! So enjoy it off! You guys earned it!" The group cheered as everyone began to get ready to go home. Justin was finished with media commitments and needed a nice long shower. He did a quick scrub off but wanted a real long bubble bath with a certain brunette that was waiting for him.

He grabbed all of his things and began to head out of the tunnel to the players lot. Justin walked by some media as he passed. He saw Taylor standing in the corner and began a light jog. His name was called as he kept running.

Quickly he got to the parking lot into his car. Taking a deep breath, he opened his texts.

Proud of you baby cakes.

He smiled and rolled his eyes. Sara was teasing him a few days ago about pet names. 

I'll pick up some food, you better be waiting naked for me.

He groaned when he got the text

I'm at Joe's house with the girls. Come pick me up. I rode with Erika

He had punched in the address Sara gave him into his navigation system and began driving.

Justin pulled up to the restaurant first and got their dishes. He got his favorite pasta and a salad and chicken Alfredo with their favorite canoli's. Maybe they can workout tomorrow.

He pulled up outside Joe's house expecting Sara to be waiting for him, however the front door opened and Joe came running out. "Get your fucking ass inside." Justin laughed. "Where's Sara?"

"Inside, I told her to stay there. You thought you could just pick her up and leave? No sir! Not after that performance!"Joe opened the driver's side and pulled Justin out of the car. He let himself be dragged by the shorter, inebriated man into the house. Once he entered, the group of five cheered loudly. He blushed, while Sara laughed and went up to him. Expecting a simple hug from him she squealed as he picked her up and swung her around the room. Planting a big kiss on her. The room hooped and hollered at the couple. Justin tasted the alcohol on her lips and knew she had a few herself.

Once they pulled away Sara smiled. "That was so fucking sexy of you to throw for almost 400yards in front of bitch ass Emmaunel Acho." He threw his head back and laughed loudly, not expecting his girlfriend to be so opinionated. 

Before they knew it, Justin had a shot glass in his hand, filled with a clear fluid that would be tequila. Joe shouted "To our social media quarterback taking off to the playoffs!" They all put their glasses in the air and cheered and took their shots. Justin made a face as the liquid burned his throat. Still holding Sara, she whispered into his ear. "So fucking sexy. You know I've always found you hot in uniform."

He growled low so know one would hear him. He spoke Into her lips. "Hmm I'm off tomorrow." He felt a pair of eyes on them, but didn't pay too much attention.  Sara turned around and addressed the group "Okay guys we are taking off"

"NOO! He just got here! We need to celebrate!" Joe started to pour another shot but Alisha stopped him. "You have had enough celebrating. You have a meeting with your agent tomorrow and you're going to have a massive headache." He protested as Alisha dragged him into the bedroom. It was a sign that the party ended, they all thanked the couple for hosting and to do this next week if they didn't go to the game. 

Before Sara got into Justin's car she yelled at AnnSophie. "Your flight is in the afternoon. I can take you." Her friend shook her head. "No need actually."

"Oh is Erika taking you?" She looked over at the other girl who was just as confused as Sara. AnnSophie smiled. "I have a driver coming. Enjoy your night and day. I will see you for the Fenty Show!" Sara ran over and hugged her friend. "Call me when you get back to New York, and Lexi's Christmas gifts will be in the mail." She hugged Erika "Don't forget Tuesday."

"Don't worry, I'll have a wheelchair rented and ready. " They both looked back at Justin, who was fidgeting with impatience. Sara laughed and hugged Erika, before going back to Justin’s silver porsche. Justin opened the door for her and helped her in as she was still feeling the drinks. “I have the food so you can sober up.” She reached over the middle to kiss his cheek, Justin smiled. “Baby please sit in your seat.”

“I really want to give you road head so bad.” Her hand went towards his crotch but he grabbed her hand with his larger one and placed a kiss to the back of it. “Not right now, as soon as we get home you can get on your knees.” She felt the wetness in between her legs.

Maybe she was drunk,or super horny, but it seemed like Justin pulled into his driveway faster than he normally would. He got out and grabbed the bags before helping Sara out and heading into his house. Nova hopped off the table (which she wasn’t supposed to be on) and walked up to them. Well Sara because she got on her knees and gathered the cat in her arms “Oh my baby! I missed you!” She kissed her soft fur. Justin rolled his eyes. “Hi Nova, I’m here too." He muttered sarcastically. He could have sworn that the cat glared at him as she was soaking up attention from her favorite human.

Once Nova was satisfied and walked away Justin dragged her over to the kitchen table to eat. They discussed the game, and she went over what happened at the party. Justin smiled as she quoted Joe's antics during key moments and his comments.

"I feel bad ya know? Joe is a good guy. It's just he's very-" 

Sara cut him off "boisterous? Obnoxious? Life of the party?" They shared a laugh. "Trust me I know. I've spent 12 hour days with him for four years."

"I'm glad Mike RSVPed for me." He smiled and Sara’s heart skipped a beat. "I'm glad I approached you, cause I know your ass wouldn't have." He laughed. "How long are you going to give me shit for not approaching you?"

"For the rest of my life." Justin liked the sound of that. He liked it a lot. "I'm sure I'll get shit from Mitch too."

Sara was quiet. Justin starred. "What's wrong?"

"My mother texted me. She wants me to come down for Christmas. To Pittsburgh."

Justin's face hardened. "I don't think you should go." He said in an angry voice. Sara was shocked. His tone changed. "I don't want to see you get hurt. After your Aunt and dad said to you."

"My mom says that Aunt Willa is going to the Hamptons with her husband's family. As well as my dad, he will probably be working in his study working on the Market for the new year." 

"My family is coming down, including Mitch and his girlfriend. I would like you to meet them, also you're leaving soon after, and I would like to spend as much time as possible." He looked down at his plate. "If you want to go, that's fine, I don't want to stop you. It's just I don't want to see you get hurt."

Tears gathered in her eyes and she got up to sit on his lap. "Baby, I'm not going. I know it upset my mom and sisters, but they understand. I would love to meet Mitch and his girlfriend. Oh my god that reminds me." 

She jumped up and out of the extra drawer in the kitchen she grabbed pen and paper. "I got to order gifts and everything. You must tell me what your parents want. Also what about your brothers?" She was scribbling away.

"Also food? Ooh I could bake or make a turkey." Justin got up and kissed her mid ramble about food allergies. "Stop. It will be fine. We don't really exchange gifts, maybe some small trinkets. As for food, My mom is ordering from the place down the road we like. If you want to make something for dessert that's fine." He smiled. "It's a no stress Christmas. That's how we always did it."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "God we are total opposites. Christmas was fun, but everything was a big show you know?"

Justin cleared his throat. "Not to be nosey, but how much money do your parents have?"

She forgot he never looked stuff up about her. "Well I've always disclosed that my parents were wealthy. And that even though my parents were not supportive of me pursuing the arts and acting, I still had a security net if things failed. If I had told my dad I was quitting acting and going to business school he would have paid for everything in full."

She pulled away from Justin and pushed herself up on the counter. "My dad has investments in a few properties and my mom, though she didn't have as much money she got inheritances from family in the past. My parents are comfortable. I don't know how much exactly, but if I had to guess with all of the properties and stuff probably around five million."

His eyes widened. Yeah his parents took vacations and they were able to put them through sports and stuff, he and his brothers were responsible for their colleges and cars. Even then, Mitch refused to let Justin help him with student loans due to medical school. That was just who they were. They didn't want handouts, they wanted to earn everything. Call it a pride thing, but to the Herbert's, there was no better feeling than having that proclamation that you did it all yourself.

Justin tried to think of something to say without being rude. "I'm assuming your sisters have the same personality as you. How did you guys stay so humble? I've met people who are in sports who are so entitled."

Sara shook her head. "My parents always made us earn extra things. We got our basic necessities and then some. But when we got to sixteen we had to get jobs. Yes, we got our own cars once we got our license. But we had to help with insurance, and pay for our own gas. Still we realized that some of our classmates had to get jobs to help families with bills and it was so we could have money for clothes, makeup, and concerts." She laughed. 

He shook his head. "I'm sure you guys were constantly fighting over clothes."

"Well the others were. I couldn't," She looked down. "I have hips, and a stomach. Katie told me I took all the tits." He laughed while he squeezed her breasts. "Thank God for that." They kissed and it deepened. She moaned as he put his hand underneath her shirt to feel her breasts. He broke the kiss and she whined, wanting more. "Go to the bedroom, I'll clean all of this up." Referring to the "mess" on the kitchen counter. She rolled her eyes. Justin was such a neat freak that he couldn't just take her right there right now.

As she was going to the bedroom she yawned, the excitement of the day getting to her, along with all the drinks. She washed her makeup off, did her skincare, got naked (he was probably going to rip off her undergarments anyways) and she laid on the bed. Her eyes began to droop instantly and she forced herself to sit up to try to fight it off. When Justin entered the room he noticed immediately how tired she was.

He got undressed, and then slid under the covers. "Baby I thought we were going to-"

Justin kissed her. "Let's get some sleep first." She hummed and got underneath the covers. She cuddled up to Justin and felt something heavy on her back. She laughed when she heard his voice. "Jeez Nova." She smiled up at him. "She's fine. It feels good on my back." It didn't take long for all of them to fall asleep.

Sara woke up to the sound of running. There was ruckus in the next room. She sat up and looked over. Justin was on his back, sound asleep. She reached over and put on her glasses, her eyes still needing to adjust to the pitch black room.

Not too long after she discovered the noise. Nova scurried in and out, looking like a brown fluff ball zooming past her. She ran back in and jumped on the bed before jumping off and running out of the room. She silently giggled before getting out of bed gently so as not to disturb her partner and went to the kitchen. Nova was now running on the couch. Sara smiled at the sight. 

"Nova," she whispered. The Bengal glanced at her. "You need to not wake daddy up." She got herself a glass of water and went to sit next to the hyper cat. She looked around and noticed Nova didn't have a cat tree to climb. Well now she knew what to get the feline for Christmas.

Sara opened her laptop on the coffee table and went to Amazon. She didn't have to search long before she found a big cat tree with many shelves and hiding spots. Typing in Justin's address she clicked order, along with a few toys for her. 

She checked the status of other orders and saw the delivery date of gifts to her friend and sister's houses. Sara browsed for something for Mark, Holly, Patrick, and Mitch. She was at a loss.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the Tumblr tab opened to the blog she looked up when she first did her research on him. Despite saying she was past that there was a curiosity growing inside of her to look at the blog and see if anything was said about a potential relationship between her and Justin. As she went to click on the blog, Nova jumped on her lap and mowed. Forgetting the task she cuddled the cat. "Aww baby you tired yourself out with your zoomies"

"I forgot she even did that." Sara jumped and turned around to see Justin smiling in the doorway of his room. She laughed. "Why do you always scare me like that? How long have you been up?" He shook his head and took a seat on the couch next to her. Quickly she slammed the laptop closed. He raised an eyebrow at her. "What's the matter?"

She put the computer down. "I was ordering Christmas gifts and I don't want you to see." He smiled and grabbed her to lay her down with him on top of her. Her running her hands through his hair. "I need to cut it." He muttered

As much as she loved long hair she agreed. "Yeah you do." He smiled up at her. "Will you shave it off for me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Absolutely not. Do not get that cadet cut everyone again."

He laughed. "Can I get it short though?"

She thought about it. "Fine, I'll get used to it I guess." He laid his head back down. "I'll miss you so much." He muttered and Sara's heart broke. They only had less than three weeks left. As much as she tried to push it in the back of her mind she did dwell on it. She kissed the top of his head. "I'll facetime you everyday. You will be sick of me. Also I've been thinking." It was something she always wanted to do but being in the public eye with any relationship was a big risk. One wrong move and it could end up ruining both of their lives. But she trusted Justin, and wanted to do this with no one but him.

"We could make a sex tape." He stilled for a minute, and Sara wondered if she should eat her words until he sat up to look at her. "You mean film us having sex?" She nodded. "I think that's the definition of a sex tape. I mean, it would be something for us to enjoy while we are away from each other."

He looked down and she stammered. "I mean we sorta already crossed the line when we had phone sex and sent nudes."

He had forgotten about that. He deleted the picture of Sara's breasts from his phone and made sure to go to his icloud when he came down from post nut clarity. No one should see his love the way he sees her.

"I mean it would be hot, but filming on what?" He didn't want to use their phones.

She smiled.. "an old fashioned cam recorder. We make a cd and keep it in a lockbox." His eyes widened. "Wow, you're prepared" He didn't mean it negatively but he saw her face drop and quickly backtracked. "I just meant that you've been thinking about this." Her face relaxed and she laughed. "Well I'm going to be honest, you're the only one I trust making one with." 

His heart soared at those words. They spent the rest of the early morning with pros and cons of making tape. They fell asleep with them still being on the fence.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So how was spending the off day with Justin?" Erika asked as they waited to be called for their facials. As promised, Sara took her friend and assistant out to a nice breakfast and a workout class before getting a mini spa day. "I'm surprised you can walk." Erika laughed, and she joined in. "I mean we did it early in the day. Then some of his friends came over for a small BBQ."

"Look at you being so domestic. Can you believe how much has changed since the pandemic?" It was true, before the pandemic her, Erika, and AnnSophie were constantly out clubbing in LA. When they were in NYC they were joined by Bella and Samira and they would be photographed at the hottest nightclubs. Once Harry and Sara were linked they were out at all the New York and London Hotspots. "Hey not to bring this up." Erika interrupted Sara's thinking. "But I saw Harry was back in Los Angeles."

Her friend was confused. "Didn't he just finish touring for two years? Why isn't he in London?" Erika shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe he is working on something."

Sara tried not to think of Harry and Olivia splitting. She didn't want him back by any means. She was happy, she had Justin. But Harry had contacted her before the breakup, would he come on stronger? And if so, what did he actually want? He was a persistent man. When he wanted something, he had to have it. 

Her train of thought broke when they were called and their skin was prepped. They chose a gold caviar facial. To be honest Sara would always see this stuff being done on the Kardashians and would laugh, but it piqued her interest. She also was scheduled for laser hair removal as well. They didn't talk much as the facials and treatments were getting done. Once they were out their skin was glowing and they felt rejuvenated.

They had lunch at a local hot spot while others looked on and photographers snapped away. It was a nice day, and Sara decided to spend the evening with her as well. She gave Justin a heads up since he was going to be at the practice facility. He replied back with 'k' and she knew he wasn't happy but understood she wanted to spend time with her friends.

In the evenings she and Erika made goofy tiktoks and drank while watching shitty reality television while they gossiped. It was a good night.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

SoFi was party central. It was the company’s annual Christmas party, where all of the influences were socializing and taking advantage of the press and blogs. Kristen rolled her eyes at all of them. Granted, she did have a large following considering she was a college athlete. But these people were just treating every single corner like a photoshoot. Even at the damn snack table, she couldn't even reach her hand to grab a cracker because everyone had their phones to record an Instagram video.

Ignoring the glares, she poured a glass of the spiked punch and filled her plate up before she walked away.

And almost into another body.

Kristen's drink spilled a little on her wrist. "Oh my god I'm so sorry!" A soft male voice took a napkin and started dabbing. She smiled. "It's fine, it's only the wrist."

"No seriously, let me get you another drink. Before she could protest she saw him walk over to the table and interrupt all the others still taking video and pictures to fill another glass. He came back over and handed it to her. "It's the least I can do."

Kristen smiled and took it. "Thanks." After a few awkward minutes she decided to start up the conversation. "So you work for the company or?"

"Oh no! I'm a photographer with OK! Magazine.I do all of the events that celebrities and influences go to, and as you can see there is no shortage here." He gestured to the table he just came from. She laughed. "What about you?"

"I do the marketing here at SoFi." He nodded. "How do you like it?"

"I love it! I just moved to Los Angeles from Colorado so it's a culture change."

The man smiled. "Oh I bet, growing up in cold weather to sunny LA? That's a change."

"Oh I'm not from Colorado. I was born and raised in Eugene Oregon. I played sports at the University of Oregon."

The man's interest seemed to grow. "Really? Oh I've been searching Oregon for some project and I've decided to take my boyfriend there on vacation. Is Eugene a good place?"

Kristen was excited, finally someone in this town was interested to know about her home state. "Well to be honest, Eugene isn't a place for tourists unless you want to spend time at the University. I would say more on the outskirts of Portland is your area."

They spoke more about the area, not realizing how much time had passed until David approached. "Hey babe, I'm sorry, I was exploring the arena. You know they let us go on the field!" He wrapped his arm around her. "Actually your boss is looking for you to get everything ready for the charity event."

"Oh Jeez! I forgot about that." She looked at the guy she had been talking to. "It was nice talking to you and thank you for the drink!" She went to leave but then remembered something "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry I don't think we got each other's names." She stuck her hand out. "I'm Kristen"

The man smiled and shook it.

"I'm Jack Lange."

A.N. Hey I said I’d get them through the Holiday’s. You all remember Jack?

#Justin Herbert #alexa writes collide #sara and justin canon #nfl imagine #nfl #los angeles chargers

[amythystraine]

Spell a Day

From The Witch's Desk...

Here’s inspiration for a spell a day, Monday-Friday: to connect with powerful spiritual entities, beat writer’s block, be delightfully successful in your newest business venture, get that marriage proposal you’ve been waiting for, and find your true inner beauty.

We’re going to be working with my favorite kind of magick... candle spells! I’m including herbs and stones, oils, and magickal incantations. I’m assuming that if you’re reading this, you’re a magickal practitioner who is going to know how to use the correspondences and all the magickally scrumptious ingredients to put together and cast a spell.

Spell For the Day: Monday

Spirit Guide Connection

(find and connect with your Spirit Guide)

Who is your spirit guide? Are they real?…Yes! They are beings who inhabit the spirit world and are connected to you in some way– to protect you, to guide you, to teach you. You can call them angels, or guardian angels, or they may be spirits of your ancestors, or spiritual beings of a higher evolution than us. They may come to you as nothing more than a small voice in your head that you’re barely aware of, the voice that warns you of danger in the moment– the voice that makes you hesitate just for that split second that was needed when another car runs a red light, or convinces you to postpone a trip and avoid an accident. They may give you warnings in the form of premonitions, or dreams, or visions. They also guide you as you explore and discover your spirituality and your life’s path.

It’s imperative that you connect with your Spirit Guide, and the following spell will help you do just that.

Blue candles/Planet: Moon/Herbs: calamus, cardamom, jasmine, myrrh, sandalwood, vanilla/Stones: aquamarine, chalcedony, moonstone, sapphire/Visions Oil: star anise, angelica, kava kava*

Sweet Guardian Spirit, my teacher, my guide;

Touch my shoulder, stay by my side.

Travel with me on this journey called life;

Protect me from harm, evil, and strife.

_________________________

Spell For the Day: Tuesday

Go’in to the Chapel

(matrimony spell)

You’re in Loooove! He loves you, you love him (or She loves you and you love her, etc.). But for some reason that all important question isn’t getting asked. You’re the perfect couple, kindred souls, coupled spirits, everything is all hunky-dory in the love department. It’s just a matter of who, how, and when those four important little words are going to get said. Here’s a little magick to put some fire under it!

Red candles/Planet: Mars/Herbs: allspice, basil, coriander, ginger, marigold, nutmeg/Stones: garnet, jasper (red), rhodocrosite, ruby/Love Oil: palmarosa, ylang ylang, ginger, rosemary, cardamom

My partner, my love;

Without you, what would life be?

To seal our love and build our dreams,

Will you marry me?

_________________________

Spell For the Day: Wednesday

Loosen the Pen

(getting rid of writer’s block)

We’ve all done it, those of us who write. We have sat there and stared in a stupor before a blank piece of paper or a blank computer screen. The thoughts wouldn’t come, the words wouldn’t come, and the ideas wouldn’t jell. There’s probably mundane ways to break writer’s block, but anything that I’ve tried takes time; you wind up just having to wait it out. I’m impatient. And if you’re a writer with deadlines to meet and assignments to complete, you can’t just sit around waiting for your brain to wake up and that elusive Muse to whisper in your ear. I like the idea of a magick spell to break writer’s block, to get the ball rolling– or the pen writing, or the keyboard clicking.

Yellow candles/Planet: Mercury/Herbs: anise, eye-bright, lavender, marjoram, sage, slippery elm/Stones: agate, aventurine, jasper (mottled), mica/Mercury Oil: lavender, eucalyptus, peppermint

Magickal Muse, whisper in my ear;

Put pen to paper, make my thoughts run clear.

The words will come, the ink will flow;

My brain runs free– and off we go!

_________________________

Spell For the Day: Thursday

Goin’ for Broke

(business success)

Whether you’re starting a business, or you’re trying to give an old business a new jump start, or you’re thinking about starting a business and you haven’t quite decided to take the plunge, here’s a little witchy magick to bring you success in your business ventures. May this business magick bring glittering twinkles and stardust, bursting fireworks, lots of customers and sales, and money piled high as corn at fourth of July!*

Purple candles/Planet: Jupiter/Herbs: anise, dandelion, hyssop, mint, poppy seeds, star anise/Stones: amethyst, pyrite, kunzite, aventurine/Business Success Oil: bergamot, basil, patchouli, cinnamon

Success and Prosperity shine on me;

The Midas touch will set me free.

Money, success, and flame flow in;

The universe shouts, “Win, win, win!!”

_________________________

Spell For the Day: Friday

The Goddess in Me

(beauty and self-empowerment)

I am pretty damn terrific!…say it!! Repeat it, shout it, believe it, feel it, wallow in it. Pretend you’re standing at the summit of a mountain, or you’re standing on the roof of your house, or the top of the Empire State Building and shout, as loud as you can– I am pretty damn terrific!!

Now get your gorgeous damn terrific selves busy and cast this spell to draw in all that beautiful powerful over-the-top magnificent Energy!

Pink candles/Planet: Venus/Herbs: aster, catnip, geranium (pink), hibiscus, licorice (the root), willow/Stones: rose quartz, moonstone, emerald, lapis lazuli/Beauty Bath: lavender, rosemary, spearmint, comfrey root, thyme

I am Powerful and Beautiful;

It’s the Goddess in me.

I am Woman Supreme;

By the power of three!*

_________________________

*Note: the oils and the beauty bath are courtesy of “Incense, Oils, & Brews” by Scott Cunningham. I’ve left the amount of each ingredient used open to your own discretion. As for the oils, personally, I prefer olive oil as a base.

*Note: “…as high as corn at fourth of July”: for those of you unfamiliar with this term, it’s a Mid-western farm thing. When fourth of July rolls around, the corn should be Knee-High!

*Note: the number “3” holds lots of magickal implications– there is the goddess trinity (maiden, mother, crone); there is the infamous line to draw in energy for your spells (by the awful awesome power of three times three); in magick concoctions, it’s often three ingredients called for; and so it goes.

*The photo... my daughter's altar that she created on top of a chest of drawers years-and-years-and-years ago, and I've used it a gazillion times.

#witchcraft #wicca #spirituality #newage #spells

[prismatoxic]

this is going to be a very long and very personal post, but i've been thinking about it for a while. it's about my old FP i mention sometimes.

it's almost 4k words long, so. be prepared for that.

i got this question on retrospring a few days after paris blew up on me.

it is a very innocuous message. probably from a friend, maybe from a stranger; i won't know unless they tell me. it's the last question i ever answered on retrospring, though i have gotten harassment since that i did not answer, forcing me to shut off anonymous messages.

the exact timestamp is Sunday, May 29th. the last time paris messaged me was Tuesday, May 24th. i had to go into our old server to find that date. i don't have a good memory, but i also hate to look at anything from their old account. so, the message on retrospring: a seemingly insignificant event, but dated so close to the breakdown that is serves as a much more accessible reminder of how long it's been.

"about 1 year ago" is the immediately visible timestamp on the message.

2 years ago, paris was my best friend.

though, thinking about it, maybe that isn't true. it isn't what i called them. mikee is my best friend, and i consider jesse to be there as well. i have never wanted to dethrone them from that spot. that term is special to me. (see, now, why my earlier post mocked myself wanting to be everyone's best friend? i won't even use the title for more than 2 people.)

no, i called paris my "queerplatonic partner" or my "platonic soulmate". qpp, usually. in hindsight it is so blatantly clear that i was obsessed, that i was attached in such an unhealthy way; i did not recognize myself as having BPD at the time. so, in the end, paris was not my qpp, nor any manner of soulmate. they were my "FP", or Favorite Person: a BPD term i would say is akin to "hyperfixation", but on someone you personally know.

i don't want to openly pass judgement on paris here, because that's not why i'm writing this. they're long gone and goading people to be as upset as i am serves no purpose. however, i will say this: they encouraged my behavior. my obsession. i believed, in a sense, that the pedestal i had put them on was in some way parallel to the one they had me on.

there was no pedestal under me, though.

paris and i met sometime in September of 2020. potentially on the 15th, as that is when i created our roleplay server. it was in a proship fandom server for a website i used to moderate. (i don't know if that site is ever going to manage to get finished, now, but i still have hope.) having just gotten very into souyo, i was hunting for roleplay partners, and said as much in some channel or another. paris, at the time, was playing P4G for the very first time. we got to talking. i made our roleplay server, and for two years, we would only ever talk therein.

today, there are 77 threads in that server for different roleplay plots. some are very long; others, very short. i was (and am) unable to focus on any one thing for any real length of time, but paris was accommodating. they were happy to do new plots as i came up with them, and they pitched their own from time to time. most of them are souyo; a handful are for our bancho triplet au; there are some akeshus, and one or two banpegos. we came up with a lot of ideas. a lot of aus. sometimes we'd redo an idea; sometimes we'd branch off from something we'd done before.

we roleplayed every day. i knew their schedule and they knew mine. our responses were quick and snappy, and if we couldn't keep up, we'd talk about it. we talked A LOT. very rarely on the phone or VC, usually in text. they do not live in the US, but we exchanged numbers anyway. we talked so much and so often that it drowned a lot of my other relationships out; i can be very single-minded in my obsessions. i almost lost several people.

i almost lost the love of my life.

in the summer of 2021, paris was taking a trip to the united states to get vaccinated for Covid, and they made plans to stop and see multiple people. in between other plans, they made just enough time to see me for 3 days. they were seeing their older friends for much longer, but i didn't question it, i didn't worry. i was so sure that i was so special to paris. i trusted them so much that the fact that they refused to allow me to interact with their core friend group just bounced right off of me.

in retrospect? ouch.

the visit was fine. paris finally convinced me that i was allowed to be disabled, that i was allowed to rely on support like the electric carts at stores and stuff. they had clashed with devot in the past, but the two of them got along fine for the visit. i was so thrilled; my two most important people, getting along? what could be better? the three of us had lunch and went to ikea. then i hung out at paris's hotel the other two days.

even when they were visiting their other friends, we were talking near-constantly. at some point, my obsession reached a very unfortunate peak, and i decided that if i was that obsessed, clearly i was in love with them. they were (and are, presumably) polyamorous, and i thought maybe i was too.

this isn't a part i want to talk about very much, because it's humiliating and painful. i tried to negotiate an open relationship with devot, and as a result, i almost lost him entirely. it was a very hard time for us, and it made me realize that i loved him way more than i could ever love someone else, even paris. if pursuing paris meant i would lose devot, then i simply wouldn't pursue paris.

paris knew my intentions and knew my ultimate decision. however that made them feel, i can't say. i don't know.

you see, towards the tail end of their trip, they suffered a familial tragedy and their return home was delayed. (or maybe they did make it home, but not for very long? my memory is fuzzy and i absolutely do not want to comb through our server to find it.) their family was in the US and that's where they needed to be for a while. i don't want to go into more detail than that; it was a very personal time for them. we did not talk a lot during it. they said, "i can't carry you right now".

maybe that was a clue as to how they viewed our relationship. i don't know. i assured them i wasn't asking for that, that i could carry them, but all the same they needed their space and i gave it to them. i had permission to send messages with the understanding that there would be no response, so i did.

in lamenting my mental state during all this, jesse (you may recall him being a best friend) suggested to me that maybe i possibly, perhaps, had BPD. he explained it to me and may have also directed me to some sources. it was eye-opening. it forced me to confront my actions and alter my behavior in ways i never realized i needed to do. in terms of paris, however, it came too little, too late.

this part of the story i have told before; i mean, i've told it all before, but i think i was more descriptive at this point. as paris recovered from the tragedy and began returning to normal life, they did so increasingly without me.

conversations in our server were short and uneventful. they were not up to roleplay, which i understood; i searched for other ways for us to connect.

they abandoned their persona 4 twitter and made a new one. they claimed persona 4 had become a trigger. i don't know why, and they never explained. it seemed that the biggest connection we had was now in the past, but i was so deeply, wholeheartedly invested in our relationship that i didn't let it get me down... too much.

the thing about the decline of our relationship is that it was not all at once. it was an accumulation of things, increasingly large signs that they were done with me. the persona 4 abandonment was one of those signs. another, how they were publicly interacting with their older friends, but no longer with me. yet another; they got into no man's sky, but when i finally got my hands on a copy to play with them, they stopped playing. or maybe they just stopped posting about it.

they did not post in our server unless i prompted them first. they did speak in our server with our mutual friend priam, but... just to talk to priam. ask them for advice on the french language, mostly, for a novel they had started to write. anything i said was quickly glossed over (not by priam, though; priam and i are still friends and i love him dearly).

this went on for 7 months.

i know that figure because just before i purged my vent twitter, i went back to the very first post i'd made about the situation. i posted a lot about it... almost every day. i also cried almost every day. i was trying to take it in stride, at least publicly, but in private i was falling apart. paris, who used to like every post on my vent twitter to let me know they were reading them, had stopped doing so. they also never asked me about any of the posts, which they used to do. at some point i figured they had most likely muted my account.

it doesn't feel like it was 7 months. it feels like it was much shorter. how could i have been in so much emotional pain for 7 whole months? i know i was hiding it from everyone as best i could, i didn't even tell my therapist; how could i have done so for so long? but my vent twitter proved the timeline. 7 months.

devot's not blind, of course. he knew something was up. i very rarely told him anything about paris, a point of contention between us. i knew he didn't like them. i didn't want to make it worse. however, i am nothing if not a paper-thin pane of glass when it comes to the phrase, "are you okay?", and eventually i had to tell him why i was so depressed.

he didn't know how to help. the only thing he could do was provide me with the matches; i had to burn the bridge myself.

he told me, early on in my relationship with paris, that they had told him something. (i didn't know they'd spoken outside of my personal server at all.) they told him that my obsession with them wouldn't last, that eventually i would find another interest and move on.

it was a gut-punch. our relationship meant everything to me, but they only saw me as an obsessed little fanboy, at least at the time. and it felt ironic, because they had moved on from me, not the other way around.

paris was (and presumably is) very serious about the privacy of 1 on 1 conversations. they never ever divulged things that happened between them and someone else that seemed in any way "personal." they expected this of others, as well; they told devot what they said in confidence. of course, his loyalties lie with me and absolutely not with them, so he told me anyway.

now, let's step back, for a moment. i want to try and paint a picture of what it was like being in my shoes.

i trusted paris. everything they had ever said to me was taken at face-value and believed. they had proven to me (or so i thought) that they always spoke their mind, were honest, and cared about me very deeply. i trusted them to tell me if something was wrong. in those 7 months, i asked them directly if anything was bad between us. they assured me we were fine. all the while, i knew they were hanging out with their older (real?) friends and generally ignoring me. i knew they had come to loathe the media that brought us together. i knew that they didn't want to play games with me, even their supposed favorite game.

i knew that they were shutting me out.

but paris never communicated this. they were visibly moving on without me, but i trusted them so much that i willfully turned a blind eye to it, waiting for the day they'd be "ready" to talk to me again. then devot told me about what they'd said, and finally, i started to split.

splitting is another BPD term, though it has its uses in general psychology as well. it is primarily a defense mechanism, mostly against The Big BPD Fear, abandonment. splitting is to see a situation and black and white and take a side. there was no longer nuance to the situation; there was paris is my friend, or paris is my enemy.

i was reluctant to let it happen. i resisted it. splitting and my natural empathy are extremely at odds with one another; i tried to convince my brain that paris was still my friend, that there were reasons for all of this. these were conscious thoughts, but the split was not a conscious choice.

i resented paris. either they apologized to me, and fixed things, or they didn't and that was that, it was over. very new to the concept that these were unproductive thoughts, i didn't know how to combat them.

i made a tweet on my vent twitter.

as i said earlier, i had come to assume that paris had simply muted my vent twitter; they had gone through so much, clearly they couldn't carry me, as they said... so i made a vague tweet that wasn't really vague, assuming they probably wouldn't see it anyway.

to paraphrase, as the tweet no longer exists: "you said once that i would get bored of you and move on, but you're the one who moved on from me"

they had not muted my twitter, they were just ignoring it. i know this because they finally messaged me first, and it was about that tweet.

the first volley of messages, sent in our roleplay server, was very clipped but mostly civil. they were disappointed in me for resorting to such a low tactic as to post a passive aggressive tweet instead of coming to them about my concerns.

(i had been having no luck getting them to talk to me; our last exchange in that server was nearly a month prior and lasted about 6 messages. perhaps you can imagine why i didn't think taking my concerns to them would work.)

i was not present when they sent these messages, and didn't get to say anything before they left the server. i did return to my computer not long after, however, and realized, with equal parts regret and relief, that it was over.

then they dm'd me, something they had not done since we very first started talking.

the dms were vicious. they had only gotten angrier after sending the first wave of messages and wanted me to know. devot had betrayed them by telling me what they said, and i betrayed them by repeating it on my vent.

i watched each message roll in, one after the other, numb. i considered replying. i never did.

they called me selfish. hungry for attention. everything was always about me. they said all that happened was they stopped initiating contact, and i had the nerve to claim it was abandonment? in the server, they said they expected me to tell them if i had an issue with them. in the dms, they professed to feelings they had never told me they had towards me.

they said they didn't know what they were even trying to accomplish, that i wouldn't even care. the messages stopped.

their twitter was abandoned; in time, their discord was as well. they never blocked me, simply... vanished. their friend list was wiped clean, their icon blacked out. i think it only didn't happen immediately because they needed to retract their presence from everything they modded and collaborated on. why not delete the discord? i don't know. i'll never know.

it's still there, black icon, no friends, no profile. our exchanges are intact. every other account i ever knew them to have is abandoned as well. if i had to guess, they don't go by "paris" anymore. they told me they had changed before, that "paris" was the longest-running identity they had. they loved being "paris". i'm sorry i ruined it, genuinely.

so, May 24th, 2022. a Tuesday; devot would have been off work. i don't remember if i cried. i think i was just sort of bitterly relieved. i think i said "good riddance" on my vent, after blocking their accounts.

that's the thing about defense mechanisms, i guess. they can work. yet, as time passed, the full weight of it all came bearing down on me. not just the end, but every part before it: the grief of it all, of losing paris, piece by piece until there was nothing left. them claiming that the "only thing" they had done was stop engaging with me first was laughable, but maybe to them, that really was the truth. i said it before: it was an accumulation of things. straws on the camel's back, you know how it goes.

it was never just about the roleplaying, or even the conversations. i tried so hard, for so long, to find something else we could do. i trusted them when they said we were fine. i trusted them when they told me they loved me. i trusted them in every way i could trust a person.

paris said once that they didn't believe in empathy. they said it was essentially "mind reading", that there was no way to know how another person was feeling, so how could you know you felt the same? hyper-empathetic, i stayed quiet. they were smarter than me, and more worldly than me; they probably knew better.

"about 1 year ago," says retrospring. i remember when it said only days. when it said a month. when it said 7 months. (that might be when i made my last post on the subject.)

shortly before that day, i finally told my therapist what was happening. it was my very last appointment with him; i'd been seeing him for 4 years. he was moving onto a private practice and could no longer take my insurance.

i said it had all began about a year after paris and i met, and he posited a theory: perhaps it was the honeymoon phase. those tend to last about a year, he said. maybe they had simply gotten bored. he did not say it unkindly (he was very good at his job, and i trusted him very much), but it did strike a chord in me. i thought maybe it was too simple an explanation, though, and after all, we were qpps. how could they just get bored?

i don't think we were qpps at that point. (arguably, we never were, but as a label we shared, i think they had agreed on it at least for a while.)

the explosion a scant few days later did not feel like boredom, it felt like vitriol. like resentment. it felt like they had wanted to say those things for a long time. but it had been 7 months since the possible end of this "honeymoon phase," so maybe. i guess i'll never know.

i have become very bad at keeping up with roleplay. even if it's the same short style, or even if they let me switch between ideas constantly. even if it's souyo. even if they're my friend. even if i'm having a great time. at some point, the mental block rises up, and even though i'm not thinking about paris, i know that's where it came from. devot is the only one largely immune to this effect; we still roleplay constantly, though i do at times fall into slumps even so.

i keep trying; i love to roleplay. it's my favorite hobby. but every time i try, it stops dead by my own hand. even if i'm actively trying to prevent it.

...but otherwise, i think i'm doing better.

my approach to relationships is different. i know what i'm capable of, if i get carried away. i'm careful, and i try to keep track of my emotions about a person. i also trust people a lot less, and fear abandonment a lot more, but i'm aware of it and trying to do something about it.

devot and i are doing much better; he doesn't have to compete with anyone anymore. i have a lot more time and emotional energy for him. i love him very much, and i'm so grateful he stuck with me. i'd be nowhere without him.

the roleplay server i made for myself and paris sits at the very bottom of my server list, tucked into a folder with the server we shared with priam. i don't want to lose the memories, but i never even look at them, so it probably doesn't matter either way. maybe someday i'll use some of those old ideas. i already did, with one; one of our roleplays was the basis for my oc nate, who i made well after paris was gone.

i do not ever want to see or speak to paris again. luckily, the feeling is most certainly mutual.

tomorrow, in about 12 hours, i will be speaking to my new therapist. he is the second i have had since the one i had for 4 years, and the first since then that i actually think i mesh well with. i think i'll tell him all of this. hell, i might even read the post to him. we'll see.

is there a point to all of this? kind of. mostly it's for me, a retrospective of what happened. it's also just informative for the people closest to me who i have likely not told everything in this much detail. if you read it and get something out of it, that's great.

it's been "about 1 year," according to retrospring. i think i like that metric better than the exact timestamps of paris's final messages to me that discord gives. the era of "tox and paris" burned bright and burned hard, and died out very quickly. it's probably for the best. i am healing, and i don't know if i'd have ever gotten better if they kept me around. there is a long way to go, but... i have hope, honestly. i think i'll be okay.

#tox.txt #this is wildly personal i'm not kidding. you don't have to read it if you're not interested #it's about BPD and obsession and grief and i'm really only posting it publicly bc like... #idk man i want it to be somewhere i can share i guess. this one doesn't go into the void #tagging so i can find it later... #The Paris Saga

[pbandjesse]

I have been influenced by the internet. I used to really love buying things on wish but I stop doing that a long time ago. Because I just kept buying nonsense. But Jess introduced me to a new website very similar to wish and I gave myself a $25 budget and I bought a couple goofy things. I'm still in my budget for the month. I barely done any shopping at all. So it was a silly decision but I don't feel too bad about it.

And today was a really good day. I wish I slept more. But I had a lot to do. Then tomorrow is going to be even more busy. Hopefully I can get a lot of rest tonight.

When I woke up this morning I felt a little annoyed. And honestly I've just been on this side of annoyed all day. For no real reason. I think I'm just tired. But I woke up and James made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while I got dressed. And very soon after I was stressed I was leaving to go to my doctor's appointment. I was a little stressed about it because you never really know how long these things are going to take. And I had to actually see the doctor today.

I've never been there on a Tuesday and the woman at the desk was different. But she was equally nice. And I got checked in pretty quickly. The woman next to me was huffing and puffing and being seemingly very upset about having to fill out paperwork. But very soon I was getting called back.

The medical assistant was as nice as always. I told him about my trip and how we just got back from camping and hiking and how great it was to not be in pain. And I encourage to look into the Amtrak trips because he wants to do some traveling as well. And then the doctor came in and we chatted for a while. I told her about the weird under skin pimples I've been getting just in case it was possibly a side effect but she told me she's been having that problem lately too and we now think it might just be the pollen in the air. And she told me it's hard to tell about my joints because I am so flexible but she was very encouraged by my blood work and the bit of inflammation in my back right now she isn't too concerned about. So that made me feel good. She said that I should just be careful picking up very heavy things. Which will probably be an issue setting up for camp tomorrow but ah well.

I got my injection and let them know that because of my honeymoon next month we're going to have to put my injection off a couple extra days but they said that that was okay. And then I went and made my appointment for the next 2 months and then I was heading out. Whole thing was about an hour.

So I still have plenty of time to go and get lunch before I had to be at the hospital for art with a heart.

But since I had so much time I decided I would go over to the art with our building and pick up tomorrow's materials. I ended up chatting with Jake for a few minutes while I was there as well. And then I went to have lunch.I drove down the road and went to Chipotle. Which was good but the person behind me was just getting a quesadilla. A small tortilla quesadilla. And they tried to charge him $9 for it. What the heck! He didn't get sides or anything. Just charging for a side tortilla What are you doing?? I left before it was resolved. But that was wild to me.

I ate my car and then I walked around Walgreens for a few minutes. And then I decided I would just go over to the hospital because parking is always an issue there. I had to circle the block a few times and eventually I just went up into the neighborhood. I parked and when I got out of the car a man smiled at me and it turned out he was one of the students and I just didn't recognize him without a mask on. We ended up both being there so early that the door was locked to the classroom so we sat and chairs outside and talked and I told him about the other classes that I do and he had lots of questions about what autism was. And so we talked about that for a long time and eventually the contact for the hospital came and let us in and she joined our conversation. We had another couple adults come in as students. But Julie wasn't there yet. The lead teacher. And I was a little concerned. We're supposed to be there 15 minutes beforehand but it was 1:00 and she wasn't there. So I found her phone number and I texted her just because I was like concerned that something was wrong. And I figured if she wasn't coming I could run to my car and get the project for tomorrow and just use those materials because we had students and I didn't know what to do. But thankfully Julie would come a couple minutes later. I'm not entirely sure what happened but I'm glad that she wasn't hurt. She was huffing and puffing though because she also hates being late. Absolutely understandable. But everybody was just looking forward to doing art. She let us through a guided meditation and then everyone started doing these interesting x-ray portrait pieces. And it was fun talking to people and encouraging them to work in different ways. It was neat I had a really nice time. We also just talked about the programs that I do at camp and some of their memories of camp as children. One of the women told us that when she was a child they took the church she went to to a camp and when they got there they told them that the pool wasn't open anymore because they were all black children and they didn't want the black and the white children to swim together. And she said that it was very painful. And it was just so vulnerable for her to share that with us. And I just am really glad that I'm getting this experience. They've all been such lovely people.

After class I finished helping Julie clean up and pack everything and then we walked to her car because she had some yarn for me. I was supposed to head to the museum next to meet with Merrill to go over some boxes for the research that we're doing to fact check the tours. And I was a little concerned about being late for that so I made sure I sent her a text as well. And then I was saying goodbye and heading back to my car. But I accidentally went the wrong way and got a little turned around. And then my feet hurt really bad but I made it back a little before 3:00.

I got to the museum at 3:15 but Merril texted me that her husband took the car and she didn't know and so it was going to be 45 minutes for her to walk there. And since nobody was answering me at the door anyway I decided that we would scrap it for today and tomorrow we would both just come early for our nighttime shift and see if we can get in there. She said that was a great idea. Merril's really cool though so I'm excited that we are collaborating and talking and stuff. It's nice to make friends.

I was very very thirsty though. I had a bottle of water with me but I had finished it already. My lips were just very very dry. I considered stopping and getting a drink but instead I just went home.

When I got back James was in their office and I was happy to see them but I was in a little bit of a mood. They had said they were going to clean the apartment and it didn't feel much cleaner than when I left it. And it's nothing that is huge I just think I was tired and grouchy. But they would come and lay in bed with me and brought me ice cream. And that made me feel better.

James would head to a baseball game after making pizza for us. And I gave myself another half an hour to lay in the bed and be a vegetable. Before getting up and making myself do some stuff. I worked on my prep for my workshop this weekend. And then I went to figure out my prints because I want to try digitally watercoloring them for the reprints of my Aesop's fables collection book. And then I started working on laying out the text for my commission from Rosia. I texted with her and she thinks maybe she wants gold thread instead of black. I told her the concerns about gold thread but that it's not impossible. So I will go to the store on Thursday hopefully and get those materials. And I was just really productive. I put some stickers on my other water bottle and picked up some stuff in the room. I made some progress on some small projects. It was a really good time. I was feeling really good.

I also went through the box that we keep in the trunk of the car. Got rid of stuff that has been sitting in there for forever and made some choices about what is necessary to keep in the car. And then I took a downstairs and I cleaned out the car a little bit. Just organized it a little bit better. And after that the sun was starting to go down.

Around 7:30 I took a bubble bath and use lots of oils and things and made my skin feel nice. And now I'm just laying in bed with sweetp. I'm getting pretty tired. James isn't home yet. But I just got a text from them and I'm glad that they are having fun. I think I'm going to go paint my toes and brush my teeth. Tomorrow I have a very busy day. I'm going on a tour of a quarry in the morning. Then I have to go to poo talk to set up Thursday's program. And then I have my art with heart class with crafted hands which is the MS group. And then I have my shift for a wedding at the museum. So it's going to be a long day. But fingers crossed that it is just really good. I have high hopes. I hope you all sleep very well tonight and you stay safe. Good night everybody.

[dothwrites]

15.20 coda--at the end of the world

author’s note: while i am still reeling from the finale, this was my way of making some kind of personal peace with it. don’t mistake this for me agreeing with the choices made <3 

---

“I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”--Madeline Miller

---

Castiel opens his eyes. 

All around him is green. A moment later, he hears the soft sound of birds chirping in the background; from further away, the faint sounds of children laughing. The air is ripe with the smell of growth, damp in the air and life underneath his fingers. 

He sits up. The sky is a perfect shade of blue, the kind found only in poet’s and painters imaginations. A few feet away, the shrubs grow, flowers spilling over themselves in their enthusiasm to be born. Everything is a riot of life and color. 

“Cas.” 

Castiel’s heart thumps against his ribs. He knows that voice. 

He whirls around, already knowing who he’ll find. Several feet away, Jack waits, one hand raised in a short wave. 

Castiel finds himself up on his feet, and within two short steps, he’s enfolded Jack in his arms. For a moment, he forgets about everything which came before, and allows himself this sheer comfort. If nothing else remains, then Jack is here. 

Jack hugs him back, twice as fiercely, before they separate. Castiel holds him at arm’s length, trying to find injuries or hurt on him, but there’s nothing. In fact, it’s almost as if...

“Jack,” he says slowly, his arm falling away from Jack’s shoulder, “what happened?” 

Jack smiles, a little lopsided, but still his boy. 

“Well,” he says, gesturing towards a bench, “It’s kind of a long story. 

---

For all that Jack said it was a long story, it ends up being remarkably quick in the telling. Castiel listens, sometimes grieving and sometimes proud, as he hears of how Sam, Dean, and Jack ultimately defeated Chuck. His heart grows in his chest as Jack recounts Dean’s words. 

That’s not who I am. 

A small part of him wishes that he could be there to see it, but he tucks that part of himself away. He said his piece. He relieved the burden which has been pressing down on his shoulders now for years. In his lifetime, it was nothing more than a blip on the map, but those years have made all the difference in the world to him. Finally, he can look back on them now without regrets. 

“And so, I came here,” Jack finally says, shifting a little on the bench. He looks oddly guilty, like the times Castiel would find him sneaking snacks back into his room. “I thought...” 

“What?’ Castiel prompts, after a few moments when it becomes clear that Jack has no interest in speaking. 

“Sam and Dean don’t really need me anymore. I mean, I know that they want me, but the world is bigger now. And the people up here need me too.” 

It’s then that Castiel looks around, scrutinizing his environment more closely. The nagging sense of familiarity hits and then he wonders how he didn’t see it before. His favorite Heaven, caught in an eternal Tuesday afternoon. 

“It’s not right,” Jack says, his forehead wrinkled into an earnest expression of worry. “The people here are stuck. While I was on earth, we all talked about free will, but the people here don’t have it. They’re stuck forever in an endless loop of memories, and it’s all just...empty.” 

Jack looks at Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t see God. He doesn’t see a divine being, or Lucifer’s son, or even an angelic being. He just sees his boy, lost and confused, but still so pure, still wanting to do the right thing, no matter what. 

“Cas?” Jack asks. “Will you help me?” 

---

Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems. 

Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed. 

He does make one stop, however. 

When he walks in the door, Kelly’s head lifts up from the book she’s flipping through. Her smile is a balm to the hurt places inside him, the ones that he likes to pretend don’t exist, because he was happy, yes? That was the whole point of everything, was to be happy. “Hey, Cas,” she greets him, shifting over and patting the couch next to her. “I was wondering when you’d be by.” 

“I’ve been busy,” Cas says, settling down on the cushions. In Heaven, his body is easier than it was on earth, more flexible, and he wonders if that’s because after all these years, he’s finally returned to where he was supposed to belong, or if it’s because he no longer has the shadow of his love pressing down on his shoulders. 

“Jack told me. Rebuilding Heaven? Sounds ambitious.” 

“The old Heaven was...not ideal,” Castiel says. “I thought it was at the beginning: each soul gets a paradise tailor made to them. But then, I realized that human life is meaningless without the connections we form along the way. Each soul, stuck forever in its own loop is...” 

“It’s lonely,” Kelly says, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Castiel returns the gesture, grateful for the connection. Her eyes are kind as she moves closer to him, her shoulder pressing into his. 

“So what happened?” 

---

In their time together, Castiel never told Kelly about Dean, at least not explicitly. But she had a brilliant mind and was able to see the threads of his longing woven into everything he did. Relating the story to her comes easily, and he tells her things which he would never tell Jack. 

“And I was happy,” Castiel says at the end. “I was.” 

“You trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Neither,” Castiel replies, bristling slightly. It was true that he might have been happier--he had performed a willful obfuscation of the original terms--but that doesn’t negate what he felt in that moment. The sheer love, the overwhelming gratitude, the incandescent happiness of being able, one last time, to proclaim to the world Dean Winchester is Saved. 

Everything else is unimportant when viewed through those lenses. 

“Why haven’t you gone to see him?” Kelly was always good at cutting to the heart of the problem. 

“Dean has his life on earth. I have my work here in Heaven. I don’t...” Because, of course, he’s asked himself the same question many times. Why doesn’t he go find Dean and tell him of one last, improbable miracle? 

“Cas, let me tell you: I didn’t know Dean all that well, but I didn’t need to if I wanted to know how he felt about you. It was all over his face.” Kelly turns to face him, suddenly serious. “Cas, you should go to him. At least allow him to speak his side. If he doesn’t feel the same way, then you’ll know. And if he does...” 

Castiel shakes his head. Happiness in the being is what he’s told himself ever since he awoke to find himself in Heaven. Happiness doesn’t come from the having. He will live with himself and find contentment in the works which he does. 

Kelly looks sympathetic, but doesn’t say anything as he walks out. 

There’s work to be done. 

---

Castiel sighs with satisfaction as he walks through Heaven. Slowly, the walls are coming down. Souls are mingling and interacting. There’s joy in the once quiet halls, the giddiness which comes from freedom after too long without. He moves through the different realms, silent as a thought, and goes unnoticed, at least until a gruff voice catches his attention. 

“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” 

A wide grin splits Castiel’s face. Only Bobby Singer would think to call an angel ‘boy’. He walks towards the old hunter, who looks the same now as he did in life, and is surprised when Bobby sweeps him up in a hug which would threaten to crack his ribs, were he human. 

“You did good,” Bobby whispers, his voice thick in Castiel’s ear. “I heard what you and that boy Jack did, and you did real good.” 

It means more than he would have thought, to have Bobby’s approval. After a moment’s pause, he hugs Bobby back. 

When Bobby pulls away, he quickly knuckles his eyes, before clearing his throat. “So, you fixed Heaven on top of everything else? What do you have planned next?” 

Castiel’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “There’s always work to be done maintaining Heaven. We don’t know what, if any, effects the restructuring will bring, so I suppose I will be traveling and making sure that everything is stable.” 

“If that ain’t a load of shit,” Bobby scoffs. “From what I’ve seen, your boy has enough power in his pinky finger to do just about whatever he wants. Stop making excuses and get your feathery ass back down there.” 

Castiel swallows. “It’s not quite as simple as that. Sam and Dean have a chance to live their lives, the way that they would wish for them to be lived. It’s not fair of me to intrude.” 

“Now, if that isn’t the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” Bobby’s mouth twists underneath his beard. “Only one thing keeping you from going back down to see those boys, and it sure as hell ain’t concern for Heaven or some BS notion that they’re better off without you.” Castiel opens his mouth, but Bobby speaks over him. “And don’t tell me that you’re just waiting either. Something I learned a long time ago--you never have as much time as you think you do.” 

Castiel closes his mouth and says nothing. 

---

Bobby is wrong. 

There’s still time. He doesn’t have to go yet. There’s still work to be done in Heaven, souls to be guided, walls to be broken. Jack still needs him. 

There’s still time. 

There’s still time, until there isn’t.

---

Castiel feels it before he knows what’s happening. It’s a rift, a tear, something which ripples throughout the universe and comes to hit him in the chest. He staggers backward, hand clutching at his shirt. 

His first thought is that Heaven is under attack, but a second’s observation tells him that’s not the case. Everything is fine. The fabric of Heaven remains secure, the souls are unbothered. It’s only him that feels the blow. 

With a flutter of wings, Jack appears beside him. His face is a mask of distress, tears welling in his eyes. “Cas,” he cries, clenching his hands into fists at his side. “Cas, it’s--” 

“Dean,��� Castiel says, finally understanding the bolt of pain which ripped through him. 

It was too soon. He doesn’t know how much time has passed on earth, but he knows it was too soon. 

It’s always too soon. 

“Cas, what do I... I can heal him. I can go and heal him now. I can save him. I can...” Jack trails off, his feet still pacing in desperate circles. “What do I do?” 

It’s a child’s question, and Castiel has no answer. 

“Free will,” is all he says. “Whatever you do...It’s your decision.” 

---

Castiel feels when Dean Winchester’s soul enters Heaven. He held that soul within his grace, he snatched it away from the filth and flames of Hell. He cradled that soul while he was reassembling Dean’s body, pulling atoms out of air to create skin, flesh, and bone. He would know that soul at the end of everything, and he knows it here, when it settles into the place which was created for him. 

It was as perfect as Castiel could make it; down to the Impala sitting in the Roadhouse’s parking lot. He created every inch of Dean’s Heaven in homage, in apology. 

It wasn’t fair. Dean deserved to live to a ripe old age. He deserved to enjoy the world for which he fought so hard. He should have grown old, should have found peace, should have discovered the foibles and pitfalls of normal, human existence. Dean worked too hard, for too long, and he deserved a kinder, softer fate. Instead, he’s here, and all Castiel can do for him is to craft his Heaven with painstaking care. 

He pauses on the boundaries of Dean’s Heaven. Every fiber of him yearns to go forward, to rejoice in Dean’s presence, to see that beloved face again. He wants it so badly he can almost taste it, leather and gasoline and whiskey mingling together until he’s back in the bunker, listening to the sounds of his family--

Castiel takes a step away from the border. First one, then another. After three steps, it becomes easier. 

Dean has his paradise, and Castiel won’t interfere. 

---

Heaven moves as it always does, timeless and changeless. There is no turn of the earth to mark the passage of time. Instead, it moves like the ocean, rolling waves which are always moving and yet the surface remains the same. Castiel travels through various Heavens, observing the newly liberated souls, and taking his peace from their newfound enjoyment. It eases something within him to see his former home restored, better than it ever was before. 

He’s inspecting a field of sunflowers when the sound of a car door closing surprises him. Immediately, his heart lurches in his chest, dipping down to somewhere around his knees before hurtling upwards to lodge in his throat. He swallows before he turns around. 

Dean Winchester is there. 

Castiel’s heart, always out of his control, performs a quick dance against the confines of his ribs. Dean looks...He looks whole and wonderful, vibrant and alive. The lines around his eyes look as though they’ve been carved through laughter instead of despair. His shoulders sit easier, no longer pressed down with the burden of the entire world. 

Castiel licks his lips. “Hello, Dean,” he finally says, when it becomes obvious that Dean has no intention of making the first move. 

Dean’s lips quirk up in a grin. “Cas,” he says, not moving from where he’s leaning up against the frame of the Impala. “You’re a hard guy to track down.” 

Layers upon layers of subtext are placed within the seemingly simple sentence. Castiel remembers Purgatory as well as anything else, the desperate year of keeping one step ahead of Leviathans while close enough to Dean to protect him if need be. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says faintly. “I wasn’t aware anyone was looking.” 

Dean’s face performs a series of interesting maneuvers, dropping and rising and twisting. It finally settles into an expression like stone as he pushes off the car and storms towards him. Castiel waits, caught up in breathless anticipation of the oncoming storm. 

“Look,” Dean growls, reaching out and snagging the lapel of his coat, almost like he wants to ensure that Castiel doesn’t escape. Castiel doesn’t even dream of it; there’s no other place he’d rather be than caught in Dean’s grip. “There was a lot of shit going on at the time, so I didn’t get to say it then, but there’s nothing happening now, so you are going to sit here and listen, all right?”

Castiel nods, but Dean doesn’t seem to notice. “I can’t believe you didn’t...” He runs the hand which isn’t still wrapped up in Castiel’s coat over his face. “You idiot,” he finally breathes. “A couple of dumbasses. You’ve had me, Cas. All along, you’ve had me.” 

Castiel looks up at Dean in sharp surprise. When he meets Dean’s eyes, there’s nothing but the infinite compassion which he fell in love with. “You... You’re this force of nature that came bursting into my life. All this time, you’ve always been there, always helping, and I took that for granted, I know I did. But, god, Cas, I should have told you every day how thankful I was to have you there with us. I should have let you know what a miracle you are. You never gave up on me, not once, not even when I deserved it.” 

Castiel’s breath hitches in his chest as Dean lets go of his coat. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he reaches up to cup Castiel’s cheek. “You never stopped believing. You never stopped trying. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“Dean.” The name bursts out of Castiel’s chest in a harsh breath. Dean’s words are working their way underneath his skin, to the point where his body can’t contain them. 

“Cas.” Dean gently angles his face up so that there’s no escape when he says, “I love you.” 

“I’m sorry,” explodes from Castiel’s chest, the helplessness and grief he felt when he felt Dean’s soul leaving earth erupting in a single quick sob. “Dean, I’m so sorry, I should have been there, I should have done something, I never should have left you alone--” 

“Cas.” Dean’s fingers press into his cheek, not hard, but firmly enough to get his attention. “It sucks, all right? There was so much I wanted...” The corner of his mouth drops. “I was going to get you out, and you, me, and Sam were going to head to the beach. I was going to get you drinking out of a coconut, maybe a Hawaiian shirt. We were going to do Christmas, I was going to take you to a theme park and see if you puked on roller coasters. I wanted...” For a moment, grief so overwhelming that it can’t be touched crosses Dean’s face, but then, with effort, he pushes it away. “There’s so much that I wanted, but it’s done now. And besides, you’ve been busy.” Dean raises his eyebrows. The grin on his face invites Cas to smile as well. “Reforming Heaven?” 

“I wanted...There was so much I did wrong here. I thought if I could make it right, that maybe...” Castiel leans his cheek into Dean’s hand. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. You weren’t supposed to be here yet.” 

“I know. I know. And it’s not okay, but you’re here, all right? Mom’s here, Bobby’s here, Charlie, and Jess, and Kevin, and Ellen and Jo...They’re all here, and thanks to you, I’m going to see them. You did that, Cas.” 

“Jack did most of the work--” Castiel begins, but he’s cut off by the soft press of Dean’s lips against his. 

Sparks burst in his chest as Dean’s hand slides around to the back of his neck to cradle his head. His other arm slides around his waist, and suddenly, Castiel is held by Dean Winchester, by this miracle of a man. Dean’s kisses consume him, until he’s no longer Castiel. Instead, he’s heat, and friction, and more. 

“You and me,” Dean pants against his lips, pulling away just far enough to run his nose along Castiel’s. “We’ve got time now, Cas, we’ve got so much time. I’m going to take you apart, going to show you how much I love you, every single day. I’m going to show you everything.” 

Castiel is drowning in the outpouring of Dean’s devotion. He’s helpless in the riptides. All he can do to save himself is kiss Dean again, tasting salt on their lips from where their tears trace down to their lips. Castiel cries partly for Dean’s missed opportunities and the fact that life is so cruel. But he also cries from happiness. Dean is right. Here, they have all the time they could ever want. There’s time to explore every feeling and desire, time for them to become themselves, without the pressure of the world around them. 

They part. Somehow, Castiel’s hands have found their way onto Dean’s waist. One of his thumbs is braver than the rest of his whole body, as it sneaks underneath Dean’s shirt to touch bare skin. Dean grins at him. 

“Hey, Cas,” he asks, pressing his forehead to Castiel’s. “Do you want to take a drive?” 

Their fingers entwine as they walk towards the Impala. Castiel’s chest feels light, like Dean’s hand is the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. “I’m still trying to figure out the roads here. It felt like I was driving around for forty years to try and find you.” 

They settle into the Impala, where they’ve been so many times before, but now Castiel can enjoy every squeak of the leather seats. He can revel in the imperfections of the car because of the perfection that’s next to him. Dean Winchester reaches across the seat and takes his hand, as easy as breathing. 

“I can’t wait to show Sam everything,” Dean says, as he guides the Impala back onto a road which Castiel is almost certain wasn’t there when he arrived. “I, uh...Hope it takes him a while to get here. But. Yeah, when he gets here, I can’t wait to show him everything.”

“We’ll see it all together,” Castiel finally says. It’s all he can say, his heart too busy dancing in his chest. 

They have all the time they want.

---

Time slips and passes and stops. In between his time with Dean, Jack, and the rest of the residents of Heaven, and performing maintenance throughout Heaven, Castiel watches the earth. He sees those left behind grow older. Claire and Kaia start a family, Claire finally having set aside the kernel of anger in her heart. Castiel watches Sam and Eileen’s family grow, smiling when Sam finally goes back to law school and gets his degree. He spends the rest of his career fighting for justice for children lost in the system, those who can’t fight for themselves. Saving people, hunting things, indeed. 

Several times, Castiel thinks about going to visit Sam, if only to assuage the grief he can still see the man carrying, but each time he stops. It hurts, but grief is a facet of life. This grief is natural. It comes honestly. It’s not manipulated by a sadistic higher being for a voyeristic pleasure. 

Eileen comes out to the Impala and brings Sam back into the house with gentle touches. Throughout the years, she’s learned how to navigate Sam’s moods, and knows how to bring him back. They lay in bed, foreheads pressed together, Eileen’s body curved into Sam’s. 

“I just,” Sam begins, twisting slightly so Eileen can read his lips, “I just miss him so much sometimes.” 

“I know,” Eileen answers. It’s all she needs to say. 

After a while, Sam gently wraps his fingers around Eileen’s wrist, partly for comfort, partly to grab her attention. “Dean’s baseball game is next weekend. Do we know yet if it’s going to conflict with Beth’s dance rehearsal?” 

“It shouldn’t,” Eileen answers, and with that, the normal routine of their life is reestablished. The grief is always present, but it’s part of the human condition. 

Castiel turns his eyes back to Heaven, where Dean waits for him. Despite it being Heaven, he insists on making repairs to Bobby’s house as well as the Roadhouse, even when Castiel reminds him, for the hundredth time, that if he truly wanted to, he could fix these imperfections with a thought. 

“Sometimes, you just have to do things the hard way,” he answers, through a mouthful of nails. 

Castiel rolls his eyes and goes to help him. 

---

The morning dawns, quiet and gentle. The dawn is silvery-gold as it stretches across the grass leading up to the cabin. In the distance, the birds start singing. Castiel can smell the fresh scents of spring, dew clinging to the grass, the clean, bright potential in the air. His toes stick out from underneath the comforter, but a quick flip of his foot flicks the corner of the blanket back into place. 

A warm, heavy arm winds over his waist. “Babe, it’s too early,” Dean mumbles into the nape of his neck. “Go back to sleep.” 

Castiel strokes over the back of Dean’s hand. The words are tempting, but something has woken him up, and now that it has, he wants to know what it is. He props himself up on his elbows, ignoring the chill of the air as it bites at his bare skin, and concentrates. After a second, he startles. 

“Dean,” he says. 

Though he doesn’t put urgency or fear into his voice, something about his tone makes Dean open his eyes, suddenly alert. Castiel looks at him, and Dean rolls over onto his side. After their time together, they’ve mastered the art of the wordless conversation, much to the chagrin of Charlie, Kevin, and anyone within ten miles of them, at least according to Jo. 

“It’s time?” Dean asks. He rolls closer to Castiel, stealing his warmth, as he trails his fingers over Castiel’s ribs. 

“Yes,” Castiel answers, taking Dean’s hand in his and pressing kisses to each of Dean’s fingertips. “Won’t be long now.” 

Dean’s fingers slide across his cheek before he curls his fingers around the bolt of Castiel’s jaw, pulling him down. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss which still manages to make fireworks explode in the pit of Castiel’s belly. He doesn’t think the thrill of kissing Dean will ever fade. Castiel doesn’t want it to. 

“I should get going,” Dean murmurs, rubbing against the bristles on Castiel’s cheek. “You want to come along?” 

Castiel relaxes back into the mattress, only reluctantly parting from Dean. “No, you go. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

“I know.” Dean slides out of bed, and Castiel takes a moment to appreciate the play of his muscles underneath fair skin. He lets out a small, disappointed noise when Dean slides into a pair of jeans and a jacket, causing Dean to roll his eyes at him over his shoulders. “Yeah, keep it in your pants. Definitely wearing clothes to this particular meeting.” 

“Shame,” Castiel murmurs, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Shameless,” Dean corrects, leaning over the mattress to kiss Castiel once more, short and sweet. “We’ll be back before too long.” Another kiss to Castiel’s forehead, and then Dean murmurs, “I love you,” into his hair. 

Castiel smiles. Much like kissing Dean, hearing those words will never grow old to him. He’ll revel in them, roll in the simple syllables, allow them to sink into him, with the simple truth that Jack tells him, that Charlie tells him, that Kelly tells him, that even Bobby and Ellen and Jo tell him. 

You are valued. You are loved. 

He smiles at Dean Winchester, this impossible, miracle of a man. “I love you too,” he replies. 

Dean out of the bedroom. The door to the cabin opens and closes. Castiel rolls over onto his back and stretches, staring up at the ceiling. 

There’s work to be done today. He’ll need to travel through Heaven, informing the various interested parties that Sam Winchester has arrived. There will be a party tonight at the Roadhouse, a celebration instead of mourning. Then he and Dean will get to show Sam their Heaven, will listen to Sam relate through his years. 

There is so much work to do. 

But they have time. They have all the time they need. 

---

“Life never ends when you are in it.”--Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

#spn spoilers #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #saileen #saileen fic #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #coda fix #15.20 coda #fix it #fix it fic #because fuck the finale that's why #do not take this fic as agreement with what happened #but this is the only way my brain will accept it #unbeta'd because we die like men in this house #dothwrites

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: hi! i’m going camping soon so i will have limited to no cell service so my blog may be kind of dead from tuesday-friday. i may have a chapter out next weekend but i’m not entirely sure. also, i plan on closing my 400 follower celebration on tuesday if you want to get any last asks in! :)

Masterlist

Chapter 33

Spencer’s phone vibrated on the kitchen table as you were breast-feeding Ophelia, Ollie patiently waiting his turn in the bouncer.

“Spence!” you tried to call up the stairs where Spencer was folding laundry with Jo.

He must not have heard you so you slowly got up and shuffled over to his phone, trying not to disturb Ophelia.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Oh hi, Mrs. Reid! I was hoping to get one of you on the line!” Taylor, your real estate agent, spoke through the phone.

“Oops, my bad if you tried to call me first, I think I left my phone out in the car,” you apologized.

“No worries! I was just calling to give you some good news! The owners of the house on Magnolia Drive accepted your offer! You’re in!”

You shrieked in delight and surprise. All of a sudden, you heard footsteps sprinting down the hall upstairs and then Spencer tripped on one of the top steps and tumbled to the main floor.

“Oh god, Taylor, I have to call you back,” you hung up the phone and set Ophelia down, running over to Spencer.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Spencer tried to sit up from his position on the floor panickedly.

“Hey, hey, stay there for a second. Don’t get up too quick. I should be asking you that question. Did you hit your head?” you asked.

“No, just my back and elbow,” Spencer groaned.

You helped him to the couch and had him lie on his belly. You walked over to the freezer and grabbed a bag of frozen peas to place on his lower back.

You sat down on the floor right in front of his face so you were level with him. You gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Hopefully the news that got you hurt in the first place will help you feel better,” you smiled softly, “We got the house!”

“We got the house?!” Spencer tried to sit up slightly but you pushed him back down gently so he wouldn’t further injure his back.

“Taylor just called. She didn’t give me any specifics but I said I would call her back.”

“Call her back! I’m fine!” Spencer excitedly insisted.

You grabbed Spencer’s phone and hit Taylor’s contact.

“Hey Taylor, I‘ve got Spencer here with me now,” you smiled.

“Well congratulations to you both. The owners have already moved out all of their stuff so they said you can move in as soon as you sign the paperwork. Could you stop by my office tomorrow?” Taylor asked.

“Yes, we’ll be there!” Spencer beamed as you ended the call.

“We got the house!” you cheered, “We got the house!”

Spencer chuckled at you bouncing up and down in front of him.

“What’s happening, Mommy?” Jo asked as she came down the stairs.

“Baby J, we got the house with the big yard! We’re moving!”

Jo ran down the rest of the stairs and joined your little dance party.

Spencer slowly sat up on the couch and groaned in pain, reaching over to the babies’ bouncers.

“Oh my god, you can’t be without a kid in your arms for one second,” you laughed.

-

“I can’t believe not even two years ago I was moving into the spare bedroom here and now we’re moving into our dream house,” Spencer smiled softly as you and him packed boxes in the bedroom.

“Well, believe it, love. I can’t wait to have a little more room,” you sighed happily as you taped up one of the boxes.

You were pulling clothes out of your closet to pack when you saw Spencer’s Caltech sweatshirt from your first interaction.

You slid it over your head and waited for Spencer to turn around after stacking a box on top of the growing pile.

Spencer smiled when he saw you, “Just as beautiful as ever, my love.”

Spencer leaned down to kiss you but Ollie started to cry. You reached up a little further to connect your lips, giving him a quick peck before walking over towards the bassinets.

“Hi, my baby. What’s wrong?” you lifted him up.

As you were patting him on the back slightly, you heard a burping sound.

“Oh no!” you panicked as you looked in the mirror, seeing spit-up trailing down the back of your beloved sweatshirt.

“Hey, hey sweetheart. It’s okay, we’ll put it in the wash,” Spencer assured you, grabbing Ollie from your arms.

“What if it’s ruined?” you cried softly.

Spencer pulled you in for a hug with the one arm he wasn’t holding Ollie in. He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Love, if you told college me that when I gave you that sweatshirt so many years ago, that eventually it would be covered in our baby’s spit-up, I would be the happiest man in the whole word,” he whispered in your ear.

You laughed softly, wiping the tears from your eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

-

“It’s even bigger than I remember, Mommy and Daddy!” Jo greeted you at the door of the new house.

Jo opted to ride with her Uncle Derek in the moving truck while you and Spencer took the twins in your car.

“Can I please go play in the yard?” Jo asked sweetly.

“Yes but don’t go past the trees at the edge of the yard. I need to be able to see you from the window,” you told her, “Henry should be over soon to join you with Aunt JJ.”

Jo pushed open the sliding door to the sun room and ran outside. You opened a window so you were able to hear her giggles of delight.

You watched as Jo did cartwheels and somersaults across the yard as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“Still can’t believe it?” you asked Spencer.

“My dream coming true? I guess I’m still trying to take it all in,” he sighed happily.

-

“Arms up, my girls,” Spencer smiled.

You and Jo lifted your arms above your heads as Spencer slid two of his big t-shirts on to your bodies.

“Alright, Jo. We’ve got our smocks on. I’d say we’re ready to paint!”

You and Spencer had already done a base cost of pale sky blue late in the new nursery last night after you put all the kids to bed. Spencer decided to leave the artistic creativity up to you and Jo today because someone had to watch the babies.

You and Jo laid out your paints and brushes. You were going for a nature theme with the blue base coat serving as the sky and Spencer used a sponge brush to create big fluffy clouds. Today, you and Jo were going to paint a garden scene.

“I’m going to start on some ladybugs over here, Mommy,” Jo informed you, picking up one of the stencils.

“Okay, sweetheart. Let me know if you need any help. I’m going to work on the big maple tree next to the window,” you smiled.

-

“Daddy! You have to come see now! We’re done,” Jo yelled down the stairs.

“Coming, Princess!” Spencer replied.

Spencer entered the nursery with the double cloth baby bjorn on his chest holding the twins. The walls were adorned with colorful flowers, bumblebees, butterflies, trees, and birds.

“Oh my god, this is beautiful! My girls are so so talented!” Spencer praised.

“Do the babies like it?” Jo asked hopefully.

Spencer picked the babies up one by one and pretended they were whispering in his ear.

“Ollie and Ophelia both love it! They want to thank their Mommy and big sister for their amazing work! They can’t wait to sleep in here,” Spencer pretended to be relaying the message from the twins.

“You’re welcome, babies,” Jo beamed.

Spencer crouched down so Jo could give them both forehead kisses.

taglist (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @doctorreiding @reidsfish

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dad!spencer #spencer reid fic #cm fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader

[skywalkerstyles]

The Scorpion and The Frog(Yandere!Villain!Bakugou x reader)

Warnings: yandere! Bakugou, villain!Bakugou, crime, mentions of murder, mind games, therapy sessions, taunting

You were so nervous you were shaking. Of all the things that could have happened on your first day at Jaku Medical Center, you had to get the case file for Katsuki Bakugou.

The notorious villain, King Explosion Murder. 

He’d finally been caught, after years of terrorizing civilians, Pro Heroes Deku and Shoto had finally been able to take him down. He was confined to the hospital pending the results of a mental evaluation to see if he was set to stand trial. 

The DA said he was, but you couldn’t believe a man who slaughtered with no remorse and destroyed cities, was anything but insane. 

“If you don’t think you can handle it, we can give the case to someone else. But this is the time to prove yourself. This case could be huge for you.” Your supervisor had said. You didn’t believe him though. Anyone with any sense would be terrified to have to work with the villain. He was brash and cruel and from the murmurings you heard at lunch, he was extremely violent and even more volatile now that he was trapped and caged, in quirk cuffs twenty four hours a day. 

He was a lion. Taken from freedom. 

And now you would have to enter that cage every tuesday. 

“Don’t worry ma’am,” the security guard smiled at you reassuringly. “He’s chained to the table, he can’t even kick you. And I’ll be right here outside. Just holler if you need me.” You nodded, trying to still your racing heart. You didn’t want him to sense your fear or know of it. You need to be calm and remain professional. 

When you walked in the room, the first thing you saw was his unruly blonde hair, you averted your gaze when his eyes lifted to meet yours, but you heard the low chuckle he made as you sat across from him. The camera was already set up and in position. You pulled out the tape recorder and the notebook you had. Sighing, you took a deep breath and turned the camera and recorder on. 

The Following Documents are for the express purpose of medical research and is the sole ownership of Jaku Medical Rehabilitation Program and Facilities. Dr. Y/N L/N is currently responsible for the recorded sessions with Patient 0427 and are intended for use in legal proceedings regarding the aforementioned patient. 

Patient Name: Katsuki Bakugou

Leading Dr.: Dr. Y/N L/N

Diagnosis: TBD

Session One Transcripts from audio and visual recordings:

Bakugou: “Dumbass. You got anything to say?”

Bakugou: “You ignoring me?”

Bakugou: “Come on. Play with me sweetheart. If you’re gonna be this boring I won’t have any fun.”

Bakugou “If my hands were free I’d get you to look at me.”

Bakugou “Hey! I’m talking to you-”

Y/N: “My name is Dr. Y/N L/N. I am here with Patient 0427. It is monday, june 17th. Please. State your name for me.”

Bakugou: “Tch. Eat shit and die.”

Y/N: “Just state your name please.”

Bakugou: “You know my fucking name already.”

Y/N: “Humor me.”

Bakugou: “Tch. Bakugou. Katsuki Bakugou.”

Y/N: “Patient has never been examined before. We will be diagnosing him for the purposes of court and whether or not he is fit to stand trial-”

Bakugou: “You sayin’ I’m crazy?”

Y/N: “Well….If you're not crazy, you’re definitely going to prison and possibly death. My job is to determine whether or not you can just stay here.”

Bakugou: “So you do think I’m crazy? Huh? Is that it? You think you’re better than me?”

Y/N: “Sit down Bakugou….I would like to keep this as professional as possible. Please.”

Bakugou: “Whatever you say Princess.”

Y/N: “Dr. L/N please.”

Bakugou: “Has anyone ever told you that you have a nice face? You do. Really nice. I want to see what you look like when you cry. I bet you’re really pretty then. I bet you look even better when your face is scrunched up in agony and pain.”

Y/N: “You like to provoke people don’t you?”

Bakugou: “I like to see people’s reactions...If I burn someone, say, on their arm. I want to see their pain. I want to see their tears...It’s...exhilarating. Having that kind of power over someone.”

Y/N: “You hold the power. Their life in your hands….Do you think of all your victims as beneath you?”

Bakugou: “Hm….maybe. I know I’m the best. Better than that shitty nerd you all call a hero.”

Y/N: “You mean Pro Hero Deku?”

Bakugou: “Yeah….That one.”

Y/N: “Why do you hate him so much?”

Bakugou: “Have you….ever seen a dead body? Not when you're at a funeral. But a real, fresh dead body? Have you?”

Y/N: “Um...That is….That isn’t what we’re doing here.”

Bakugou: “I know why you’re here….You want to know why I killed all those people.”

Y/N: “You destroyed a business-”

Bakugou: “I accidentally let my quirk off.”

Y/N: “You and I both know it wasn’t an accident.”

Bakugou: “Do we?”

Y/N: “Bakugou this isn’t funny! The DA is chomping at the bit! He’s just waiting for me to find you sane so he can lock you up and throw away the key! If you want me to help you, you have to trust me.”

Bakugou: “.......”

Bakugou: “This could be fun….I like you.”

Y/N: “Just answer me this. What makes you so different from other villains? Because the DA doesn’t think you’re any different than they are. That’s what he’s going to argue. That you’re cold, callous and knew full well what you were doing.”

Bakugou: “I did know-”

Y/N: “Answer my question.”

Bakugou: “Feisty huh? I might like that….and I’m not like those other scum. My motivations for the things I do are very simple. Even a dumbass like you should have been able to figure that out, but I guess even with your degree, you’re still just a useless extra.”

Y/N: “What makes you different?”

Bakugou: “Fuck….I don’t know. I just know I’m not a gutter rat….When villains kill….They have a motive, money, jealousy, emotions, business. Not me. I could give a shit less about all that stuff.”

Y/N: “Then why do it? Why cause harm? Why cause destruction? You have a great quirk. It’s brilliant actually. You could have done so much good with it. Why choose to be a villain?”

Bakugou: “Because it amuses me…..Seeing their faces, the fear, it’s adrenaline. You get addicted to it….once you take that first life...when you see the light  go out of their eyes….The power trip is better than anything….even sex.” 

Y/N: “So you don’t care about the outcome? The people you hurt? As long as it amuses you?”

Bakugou: “Bingo. We have a winner.”

End of transcript

You sigh, sitting back and shutting the tape recorder off as the guard standing outside the door, knocked lightly. 

“We’re done for the day.” You shout. You can feel Bakugou watching you, it’s unnerving, you have to physically stop yourself from shuddering under his fiery gaze. The guard comes in, unlocking Bakugou’s quirk cuffs from the table and helping him stand on his feet. 

Bakugou wasn’t much older than you. But the way his eyes shown with disgust and hatred, made you feel like he had lived a long time, he had seen and done things that were unmentionable. It was an uneasy thing to look at him, to see that proud sadistic smirk on his face and the dominance in his eyes. He knew he made you uncomfortable and he was feeding off that fear. 

“That was fun Doc. But you never answered my question. I think it’s only fair. Since I answered yours.” Tears glossed over your eyes as he chuckled darkly, before being led from the room. 

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bhna bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fanfic #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou imagine #yandere bakugou #villain bakugou #mha bakugou #katsuki

[gifted-burnout-archive]

It’s Alright, I’ve Got You.

Requested?: Yep! @gingeraleluke sent it in and of course I had to write it.  One of Dwight’s weapons falls from under a table and Y/N steps on it, prompting Jim to go full blown protective bf even though no-one knows they’re dating!

Word Count: 4.0K+

Author’s Note: I solemnly swear to write as much Jim Halpert fanfiction as y’all want. He is a bean and I love writing Office-universe stuff. After that smut that I released, we do need some fluff though.

Warning: gore, and descriptions of injury. Otherwise, floof.

--

You couldn’t remember the last time a storm raged with such force over Scranton, but it did little to keep you in your flat that Tuesday morning. Perhaps, in hindsight, it was a bad omen, a warning of things to come, but you we determined that morning, too stubborn to call in sick or wait for the pouring rains to soften their attack.

That morning, you washed and dried your hair like it wasn’t about to frizz in the humidity, you put on waterproof mascara and set your face with hope the makeup wouldn’t run; you ate your breakfast and drank your first cup of coffee of the morning like the roads outside weren’t a few raindrops from flooding; and you left your apartment, an umbrella over your head as you trotted to your car and tried to ignore the water splashing onto your tights. With a few flips of the key, clearing the exhaust of water, you started your car and breathed a sigh of relief once you were on your way to work. The rain had done little permanent damage, and you were hopeful you would find a parking spot close to the door.

Today was important for you, a meeting with clients at the office to discuss a major shipment you and Jim had been organising for months now, the last thing you wanted to do was be late for it. The job itself was uninteresting to say the least, but you knew you wouldn’t let yourself let Jim down. He was your best friend, your sales partner, and as of recently, the realised love of your life.

Of course, you hadn’t told your co-workers, apart from Pam; but she was a trusted confidante. Apart from her, your relationship was very much private, how both of you liked it for the moment. There was no too-personal questions about sex from Michael, no creepy postulations from Dwight, no dirty glances from Angela for being ‘ruined’: in short, you had peace to work through your relationship at your pace, and it was going great as a result. You’d tell them all soon, obviously, but when was still undetermined.

You slowed at a stop light, your windscreen wipers struggling to keep your window clear for the sheer amount of rain, and you signalled left, deciding to turn on your fog lights on top of your low beams. The roads were too treacherous to avoid safety, and you felt safer as you turned onto the main road, joining a stream of traffic heading into the centre of Scranton, though it was thinner than usual.

The trip to work took longer than usual, but you still arrived early, and gave yourself a moment to prepare yourself for the dash to the door. You tucked your keys into your purse, planning to lock your car from the reception, and you checked your makeup in your rear mirror once more, making sure that your lips were still unsmudged, that the mascara was holding up the title of waterproof. With a final check you had collected your belongings, you kicked your car door out and opened your umbrella against the ice-cold pellets of aqua. You were swift, careful in your heels to avoid drains and broken cement blocks on the path that could splash more water on you.

“Mind if I share?” A voice called through the din of water hitting the ground, and you found a rather wet Jim by your side, his frozen hands coming to your waist and urging you forward as you both fended off the rain with your umbrella. Once you had gotten under the entryway, you shook out your saving grace and closed it, turning to find Jim holding open the front door for you.

“Halpert, you look like a drenched dog.” You stated in place of thanking him for the courtesy, walking into the Scranton Business Park building that housed Dunder Mifflin. Jim followed, deciding to play the part you had assigned and shake the water from his hair, spraying your dress skirt with rainwater. You squealed at the action, letting down your professional demeanour to giggle at the goof you called a boyfriend. After a quick glance behind you to see if anyone was around, you pulled Jim over to you by a sopping wet tie and pressed your lips to his. Sweet, chaste, a secret gesture.

“I always knew you were a dog person.” He responded, capturing your lips once more with a cheeky smile. “Good morning, Y/L/N…” He grinned, sauntering toward the elevator like he hadn’t left your breathless at 8.32 in the morning. You followed after him, the doors opening and both of you stepping into the lift. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the steel, fixing your lipstick quickly as you shot up to your floor. You felt a presence behind you, Jim’s hands resting on your waist for a second time, and you could make out his hazy reflection in the metal.

“Are you still up for a movie tonight?” You asked, unable to stop the blush that rose on your cheeks as Jim’s lips pressed onto the top of your hair, which had managed to survive the weather rather miraculously.

“Like I could ever say no to you.” Jim responded, lifting one of your hands and holding it in his own. Despite the size difference, they fit together perfectly. “I love you.” He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek just before the doors opened to your floor, and just as soon as he was there he was gone, off into the office. You tried to quell the smile that had caused dimples in your cheeks as you walked in, but failed rather miserably.

“Why are you so happy?” Were the first words you were greeted with as you came through the door to the office, from a rather moody Dwight of all people. You took off your coat, Pam not yet at her desk for a greeting, and walked over to your desk across from the spectacled asshole, seating yourself and exaggerating the smile into a maniacal grin.

“You know Dwight, people are allowed to be happy in spite of the weather. You’d know if you had ever experienced real emotion. Tell me, do robots need to go in for MOTs?” You were quick and sharp with your tongue when you wanted to be, and earned a chuckle from Jim, who had begun printing off the last of the files needed for the day’s meeting.

“If I were a robot, Y/N, I’d be part of a superior race. Your flesh vessel would be no match for my metal structure.” Dwight countered, and Jim looked over from the copy machine.

“You hear that? Sounds like something a robot would say.” Jim shrugged, sending a wink your way.

The rest of your co-workers trudged their way into the office, each one wetter than the last. It seemed like the rain you had battled against was just the start of whatever bizarrely named storm had landed atop your city that day. With Pam’s appearance, the poor thing shaking from the cold, you disappeared into the kitchen to pour her a warm cup of coffee, sorting one for Jim as well.

“You, Y/N, are the angel I’ve always needed.” Pam smiled through chattering teeth as you handed over her favourite mug, walking back to set down Jim’s coffee without a second glance.

“It’s mutual, Pam. What happened? You look like you’ve been plucked out the Atlantic.” You asked, walking round her desk to help her take off her jacket and cardigan, both items soaked so thoroughly you were sure you could fill a bath with the water retained in the items.

“My car wouldn’t start, so I had to get the bus… The thing stopped two blocks away, this is the result of sprinting through the rain.” Pam pouted as she spoke, and you smiled sadly at her. She took another sip of her coffee, plopping onto her chair, seeming to be contemplating something over the beverage. “Does Kelly still keep a hairdryer here?” She asked.

“You know, I was about to suggest the exact same thing. I have the morning basically free until my meeting at 11.45. Why don’t I fetch the space heater to keep you warm, and we can dry off your clothes in the bathroom?” You offered, throwing her wet cardigan over your arm, and leaning down to press a kiss to your friend’s cheek.

“God, Pam you look awful.” A voice interrupted your kind gesture, Michael stood by the coat rack, taking off a jacket that looked like it belonged in the artic tundra. “Wet to the core- oh! That’s what she said!” He called out in excitement, laughing at his own innuendo.

“Michael, there’s a call waiting on line two.” You lied, and he raised an eyebrow.

“But-”

“Go be busy and leave Pam be.” You ordered, and Michael nodded, moping as he headed into his office. While you were a nice enough person, you kept up a rather stern persona in the office, and Michael perhaps was or was not a little scared of you. You departed from Pam’s desk, walking to your own and calling Michael’s phone from your own.

“Hello?” Michael answered, and you smiled at him through the window.

“Morning Michael. Have you got the 11.45 scheduled in?” You reminded with a sweet voice, watching Michael frantically look for his calendar.

“Uh… Uh, yeah! I do! Wait a minute, I didn’t schedule this in…” He muttered, dropping the phone and walking to the door of his office. “Thanks Pam.” He called, startling the young woman, but leaving a smile on her face, nonetheless. You put down the phone, quickly checking your emails and making sure you were set for later that morning.

“Jim, you alright to take care of the rest of the printing?” You asked, glancing over and trying your best to keep your heart from melting. Jim was sat at his desk, brow furrowed as he proof-read something on his screen, sipping his coffee rather absentmindedly. “Jim.” You repeated, and his head shot up, the crease disappearing as a smile formed.

“On it.” He responded, giving you leave to find Kelly’s hairdryer and ring out Pam’s cardigan.

“Why does Y/N get to slack off?” Dwight muttered once you had disappeared through the kitchen door. Jim watched you leave for a moment before coming back to, looking over at an unhappy Dwight.

“She’s not slacking off, Dwight, she’s doing a co-worker a favour. You should try it once and a while.” Jim countered, putting Dwight on the defensive.

“I’ll have you know that if it weren’t for me, none of you in this office would be safe.” He was sure in his words, but a phone call came through before Jim could question what his colleague could possibly mean.

--

11 am rolled around fast, and with Pam’s cardigan ringed out and blow-dried, along with a few other team members’ outer wears (Jim’s tie included), you were finally starting to feel nervous. As much as you enjoyed helping your colleagues out, having even taken off your shoes to get around the office quicker, you realised as you distributed the dry clothes to individuals that you were just trying to preoccupy yourself. This meeting was important, and while you had no doubts in Jim or yourself, you had a feeling you were missing something.

“Water!” You squeaked as you handed over a scarf to Oscar, who raised an amused eyebrow at you.

“Don’t you think we’ve got enough outside?” He asked, and you laughed a little.

“Sorry, for the meeting today. I should clean up some matching water glasses for the clients.” You explained, lifting a sweater from your arm and passing it to Angela. She seemed in a good mood today, perhaps because in between your drying of clothes you had offered her a cat shaped cookie to go with her coffee. Andy had probably brought them in to amuse her.

“That’s a very clever idea, Y/N. We won’t keep you from getting started on that.” She said, and you nodded, knowing that Angela had politely dismissed you to focus on her work. You marched through to the kitchen, lifting the nicest glass tumblers you could find and beginning to wash a set of six, humming as you did.

“I know what you’re doing.” A familiar voice came from behind you, Jim placing a hand on the small of your back for a second to reach around you. “Why are you so nervous? We’re the dream team, cutie. The clients will love us.”

“I know, I know…” You sighed, lifting two of the glasses from the suds and placing them on the drying rack. “I’m just… It’s a big deal, I feel like if one thing goes wrong…” Jim cut you off with a shake of the head, picking up a tea towel to dry off the cups.

“Y/N, you wrote and printed six-chapter binder about the entire order. From processing to delivery, with notes on every possible question they could ask. You then made Dwight and I memorise the binder, like we don’t have other clients.” Jim teased you, placing the dried glasses onto a serving platter. You glanced at the clock, 11.20 am. 25 minutes to go.

“You’re right… Like always.” You gave in, happily defeated, and set down the final tumblers and the water jug on the drying rack, Jim swift on his self-assigned role in your cleaning chain.

“Here, I have an idea.” He began, filling up the jug with cold water. ���Why don’t you head to the break room, get yourself something as sweet as you, make sure you don’t go into the meeting low on sugar.” Jim suggested, pulling a slightly damp $5 bill from his pocket. You reached to grab it, Jim then deciding to be an ass and lift it higher than you could reach.

“You keep this up the whole office will know we screw, Halpert.” You warned, batting your eyes as a pretty please. Jim just laughed lightly, handing the money over and grinning from ear to ear. You smirked back. “I love you, you know.” You said quickly, walking from the kitchen to the annexe, waving a quick hello to Kelly, who was enjoying her warm and dry faux fur wrap, while Jim just smiled to himself and went about carrying the water jug and galsses through to the conference room.

You slipped into the empty break room and took a deep breath. Jim was right, there was nothing to fear about this meeting: the clients were great people, understanding, and the shipment was all ready to go in the warehouse. You rolled the cricks out of your neck, stretching your arms up to the fluorescent lights to relieve whatever tension remained. You headed for the vending machine, skirting round a pulled-out chair and stopping to face the machine stocked full of goodies. By the looks of it, the machine must have been refilled in the last few days, and your fingers hovered over the array of treats, stopping on your favourite, one that you hadn’t seen in the vendor in months.

Slotting in the bill, you typed in your choice, and when the change came through, you picked out Jim’s favourite candy too, a little thank you for his calming techniques. You scooped the snacks out the bottom, swivelling around a little to quick and bumping into the chair you had been so careful to avoid coming over.

With the bump, you knocked into one of the tables and ended up stumbling. Your auxiliary foot did it’s best to steady you, but you were falling over. So, you placed down your dominant foot despite the odd angle with as much force as you could, frightened to hit the ground and possibly rip your tight right before a big meeting.

There’s a moment when one realises a mistake before it occurs, but cannot change it. It happened as your strong foot was about a cm from the ground, a pinch. Your mind immediately registered that you were probably stepping onto a tac or upturned loose staple, and you were ready to mumble curses under your breathe and feel a quick nip.

What came instead was blinding pain that forced you to the floor, banging your head on the damned chair that caused all this on the way down. The snacks you have so carefully thought out flew across the room, and you instinctively reached for your foot, only to pull your hand back when you cut yourself. The amount of blood covering your hand was dizzying, and as you finally felt the pain take full control of your head, you did the only thing you could think of.

You screamed.

--

No-one in the office was expecting to hear a scream at 11.30 in the office, especially not one so haunting. For a second, everyone was still, Michael silencing his rant about Staples, hands across the room moving from keyboards in a moment of terror.

And then the second scream came, and Jim flew into action.

He had been at his desk, making sure he had printed off everything the pair of you needed, and trying to block out Michael’s nonstop talk when he heard it. And, to be fair, he never had heard you scream in terror before, it took him a second to register the sound. And it froze him too, this haunting call, it froze the office. But when the second one rang out, he was certain it was you, and propelled himself towards the breakroom, where Kelly now stood, Pam and the rest o the team hot on your tail.

Jim had never seen so much blood, You were barely awake on the floor, the carpet below you now a crimson colour, one of your hands clutched to your chest. All Jim could see for a moment was the red, but he knocked it quickly from his mind. You were hurting, he needed to get you help.

“Y/N, it’s alright, I’ve got you… Come on Y/L/N, look at me…” He begged, dress pants now stained with blood as he knelt down and lifted you from the ground. A few team members had to step away from the sight, Michael included, leaving Jim with a very select team.

“Stanley I need you opening doors. Meredith, can you find any sort of towels, we need to stop the bleeding… Jesus Christ what is in you foot Y/L/N?” The question was more to himself than to the team, who watched in curiosity at how Jim interacted with you: he cradled you close, he barked orders, the worry on his face was clear.

He was scared for your wellbeing.

“You know, if she hadn’t been slacking off none of this would have happened.” Dwight piped up out of the blue, causing heads to turn as Meredith passed towels to Pam, who carefully began wrapping Y/N’s foot to stop the bleeding, Meredith then moving to wrap Y/N’s hand.

“Dwight, what did you do?” Jim asked, pausing for a moment to look at his desk mate. When he received no response, Jim lost it. “WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO DWIGHT?!” He shouted, all eyes on the pair. Dwight tried to look strong, righteous, but the façade was quickly faltering.

“I-I keep weapons in the office… For protection.”

“Protection?!” Pam snapped. “There’s a throwing star in Y/L/N’s foot, Dwight!”

“I’m good with small, long distance objects.” Dwight shrugged, and Jim looked like he would murder Dwight on the spot if it weren’t for you in his arms. His Y/N.

“Let’s get her to the hospital before she loses any more blood. Pam, you’re driving. Andy, Dwight, take over the pitch meeting. Fuck it up and there’s hell to pay. And Dwight?” Jim called back as he, Stanley and Pam made there way towards the exit. “If anything, and I mean anything, happens to Y/N because of your goddamn bullshit, you will not live to see tomorrow.” Jim warned, and Dwight visibly gulped, watching the quartet left with a lump in his throat.

--

When you woke up, you were scared. You felt weak, your whole body ached, and your head pounded like no-one’s business. There was also a lot of pressure around your hand and foot, the material you wore felt funny, and you were in a bed that was most certainly not your own.

And then it came back. The pain, the blacking out. You were in a hospital.

You tried to sit up straight, your heart monitor to your right beginning to beep faster and faster, you frantic in your search for any sort of explanation.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright baby, it’s all good.” A voice came from your left, a blurry figure you quickly recognised as Jim running to your side from the corner of the room. You blinked away the tears to see clearly, and he smiled, instantly calming you. “You’ve been through quite a bit Y/L/N, you need to stay comfy in bed.” He instructed, taking a second to disappear before pulling over a chair to sit by your side.

“What-what time is it?” You asked, lifting a hand to hold Jim’s. Your eyes widened. “The client deal-”

“Andy and Michael have sorted it all out. That binder you made really saved their asses.” Jim assured before glancing at the wall clock. “Almost 7… You were out for a while, they had to put you under anaesthesia and everything.” Jim explained, and you took in his appearance completely. He was out of his work clothes, changed into a t-shirt and jeans no doubt brought in by Pam, and despite his dishevelled hair and brow creased from worry, he look his usually self. Except for the bandage around his arm.

“What happened?” You asked, reaching over to touch it.

“You lost a far bit of blood, and even though I should really know it I had no clue what blood type you were. But I’m O Negative, and the hospital needed an emergency transfusion…” Jim shrugged like it was nothing, but you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I can’t believe how clumsy I was.” You whispered, shaking your head in shame. You had stepped on something and fallen down, and Jim had to donate blood to you? He was quick to shush you though, leaning over and placing kisses on your forehead.

“Baby, this wasn’t your fault… It was Dwight’s actually.” Jim paused to steady his breathing. “The asshat hid weapons around the office, one of them being the ninja star that got lodged in your foot and required surgery to remove.” You blinked a few times, trying to process the words, make sense of what you had just been told. Dwight… Weapons… Ninja Stars…

When Jim saw the smile on your face, he was caught off guard, but as you started to giggle he soon clicked and joined in the laughter. It was ridiculous, such a bizarre idea that it would only happen at your office building with Dwight.

After a few moments of shared laughter, the tension in the room eased, a knock sounded on the door, a doctor entering the room with a smile.

“Miss Y/L/N, glad to see you up and smiling. I was hoping we could run over your next few weeks, the precautions you’ll have to take until you hand and foot heal.” They asked, and you nodded, Jim pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding your good hand between his, his thumbing stroking your knuckles and the rain continued to storm outside.

The rest period wasn’t long, and after two weeks your hand had healed to a sufficient degree that you could use crutches and get back to work. You first day back on the job compromised of a surprise party, cake, Dwight apologising multiple times and very little work.

What was best about it all though? Jim, right by your side, the whole office now quite aware of where you stood with each other: which was, no matter what, side by side.

Bonus, you got to keep the throwing star, and it has since been framed in the office, rightly labelled as ‘How the office found out Jim and Y/N were dating’.

#jim halpert x reader #fluff #jim halpert #the office #fanfiction #john krasinski

[buildmeafairytale]

Female Reader x Male Selkie

This is my very first commission! I was commissioned by @shy-basementchild for a birthday present for her friend, @anjhope1. They’re the sweetest and I’m so glad I got to write this for them! It was fun to write and a new experience to write for someone other than myself. I hope you guys enjoy reading it and if anyone is interested in a commission or monster match, my ko-fi is here. 

You leave your house in the afternoon and the cool air is nothing but a familiar comfort under the layers you have on. Like most days, the rocky beach beckons you to its shore. You manuvare the cliffs like you’ve done it a thousand times. You probably have by now. This place has been home for a while now. The town is more of a small fishing village but there’s a touristy block that has lots of shops that you frequent. It’s a cold and rainy place, but it just makes your house feel all the cozier for it.  

The beach is even colder, with the chill turning your nose rosie. You breathe in the crisp air, relishing in the way it stings your lungs. You gaze out towards the rolling waves only to see what looks like a head poking out of the water. It’s foggy and far enough away that you convince yourself it’s a seal, not dwelling on it while you take your walk. 

You’ve established a routine in this seaside village. You do a bit of freelance work in the mornings and leave the afternoons for your adventuring, finding the best coffee spots and shops in town. But the beach is your favorite by far. From the way the rocks crunch under your foot to the rhythmic sounds of the waves lapping the shore, this was your happy place. 

The next day is quite the same. You walk your beach, picking up stray bits of trash you find. This time when you look out to the ocean, the head that pops up looks much more like a man’s than a seal. Your breath catches in your throat and you can’t tear your eyes away. He’s still so far away, bobbing along with the waves and seemingly staring right back at you. And then he’s gone, just as quickly as he was there. As you walk the hair on the back of your neck prickles. You feel like you’re being watched but every time you turn to look no one is there. 

This goes on, but the next few times he seems to get closer. It takes some time to come to terms with the fact your mind isn’t playing tricks on you, but by the time he’s closer to the shore you can no longer deny it. You wave and he just tilts his head and stares. You’re confused and unsure about things, and feel a bit crazy. You wonder if the fishermen working the docks would know anything about the mysterious man in the water so you make a trip down there

The docks are several miles up the beach, and you always make a point to avoid it. It’s bustling with people going between boats emptying lobster traps and the air smells like fish. You're nervous and watching your feet, making sure you don’t misstep on the slippery wood underneath you. You feel like everyone is looking at you but hardly anyone has seemed to bat an eye at your presence, all of them too busy to worry about you. You keep scanning the crowd in hopes of finding someone to ask about your man in the water. You’re ready to give up when you lock eyes with a man. A man you would recognize anywhere, since you’ve seen him everyday floating in the waves.

He is a presence and something to behold. He sits high up on a fishing barrel and his feet are still firmly planted on the ground. Muscular legs connect to a thick middle wrapped in a classic fisherman’s sweater. Long chestnut hair is tied back from his face and he holds a knife and apple in his hands. You stare and he raises his hand in greeting. The noise of the docks retreats to a buzzing in the back of your mind and you hold your breath. Time stands still and butterflies build before you're being bumped into by busy workers. The spell is broken and you rush out apologies for being in the way. You turn and leave as quickly as you came, having even more questions than when you arrived. 

The next day you’re at your beach early with a book to occupy your time. You decide to stay there until you get some answers. You’re comfortable waiting and hope maybe he’ll come say hello. The grey eyes haunt you every time you close your own and you are restless. Was he some sort of creep, watching you from the water? He certainly didn’t look like the type to spy on women. He didn’t look like the type that would have to, gosh. Not that his good looks automatically made him trustworthy, but they certainly lowered your inhibitions. 

While you were lost in thought of the handsome stranger, he had materialized in the sea not a hundred feet away from you. It startled you, but you waved anyway. 

“Hi!” you yell out, tired of the voiceless staring contest that has been occurring. His lips twitch and he echoes your sentiment.

“Hi there,” he calls back, bobbing in the water.

“Isn’t it a bit too cold to swim?”

“A bit too cold for you, maybe,” he observes, his voice amused and carrying without strain despite the sound of the crashing waves.

You don’t know how to respond to this and the conversation fades when he dips under the surface, popping up a few feet away from where he was. His movements in the water are graceful and he swims in little laps not far from you. His upper body is bare to you above the black water, and he is thick corded muscle under a layer of softness that makes you want to touch him. He says nothing else to you but he doesn’t protest to your eyes on him. He seems content to be in your company and it isn’t for another while that he swims away and around the side of a cliff face, waving goodbye at you. You lose sight of him and while part of you is worried, the other part of you knows he must do this often and is obviously a practiced swimmer. 

He’s there before you the next day and chattier too. He tells you his name is Aegis and asks you for yours. He asks what you do for work and how you like living in the small town. You tell him about your house up on the cliff and how much you love it. For how brooding and intimidating you first had found him, he was quickly becoming a friend. The conversation flowed easily and was comfortable, the two of you bantering a bit too.

“There’s so much beach, too. I love to see the water.”

“Not much to do besides sit at the beach, yeah?” 

You shrug, “I like it here, it’s quiet. Or used to be, not that I oppose the company,” you jest at him, watching him take it all in stride. 

“I’d hope not,” he flashes you a grin, “can’t have my beach buddy getting sick of me so soon.” 

You give him a goofy grin back, trying to tamper down the butterflies growing in your stomach. You sit closer to him and the water, finding a comfortable seat on a washed up driftwood tree. “Maybe when it warms up I’ll join you for a swim,” you speak softly, picking at shells and rocks you like. You squeal when cold water splashes you, Aegis laughing when he has your attention.

“You ass!” you squeal out, going to splash him back. He bobs under the water again to evade you, an unmistakable grin stretched across his face. Your hand goes in the water to splash him back but it’s so cold it hurts and stings at your skin. That snaps you out of your playful game, and when Aegis comes up and sees the serious look in your eyes he tilts his head. 

“What’s that look for?”

“Aegis, seriously, how the hell are you okay to swim? You aren't even wearing a wetsuit!. I don’t know how you don’t get hypothermia! ” You’re concerned and can’t help but reprimand him, unsure how he manages to not even have red skin from the water.

“I guess I’m just built different, lovely,” he says with an easy smile, leaning into a backstroke.  

“Oh, built to withstand freezing cold water? Yeah, you’re different all right,” you tease back, retreating out of the water’s reach. 

Things go on like this for days and the two of you get familiar with each other’s schedules, seamlessly working into the other’s routine. Aegis seems down today though, and he doesn't hesitate to inform you why. 

“I have to go on a charter for a few days. I won’t be back until Tuesday,” he pouts, his pillowy lips exaggerated. You try not to let them distract you too much but he smirks like he notices you looking. You play along, pouting back.

“Aw, you’re gonna miss me too much?” you tease, despite knowing the next several days without him aren’t going to be as fun. 

“Desperately,” he says back, in an all too serious way that makes your heart race. He winks and grins, dispelling the intensity and turning things playful again, something he seemed greatly skilled at. He flirts in jokes but never leaves any tension or pressure lingering which you were grateful for. 

The days he is gone feel as if they last forever. It’s silly, really, how fond you’ve grown of him in such a short amount of time. You avoid the beach completely while he’s gone, knowing it will just make you miss your friend even more. Despite the way the time crawls by, though, Tuesday morning eventually comes around. 

Something shocking greets you when you arrive at your beach that day. Aegis is there, but is perched on a large flat boulder. Instead of the thick legs you saw filling his jeans like you did on the docks, his lower half is that of a seal. It’s longer than his legs would be and heavy with blubber. He studies your reaction and you’re fascinated. You’ve heard talk of selkies before, the legend being popular in this part of the country, but you hardly thought you would see one in real life. 

You try to look less confused than you are, not wanting to hurt aegis with an adverse reaction. You can feel his eyes on you, watching you watch him. 

“Uh, hi?” you say to him, getting a calculating ‘hello’ back.

You nod to yourself while looking at him, “Okay, this makes sense? This is a better explanation than I had, at least.”

 “Trying to rationalize my swimming habits, lovely?”

“Trying to rationalize you, lovely.” you toss back, feeling better when the same devious grin he’s worn around you makes an appearance. It’s still Aegis, and this is who he is. Or part of him, apparently. 

“I wanted to show you, but I have a rule, lovely.”

“Rule?” you ask him, confused.

“Yes, a rule. Humans have taken advantage of my kind far too many times. So if I’m showing you this, and I’m going to keep coming back to see you, I need you to listen to me,” he tells you, full intensity focused on you. He goes on to explain the history of his people, the power of the sealskin, and the way humans would steal them to control selkies. He tells you in the past someone tried to steal his sealskin, but he could feel their intentions and replaced it with a fake, catching them in the act. These stories obviously pain him, and hearing about the kind selkies being taken advantage of in such a way is enough to make your heart clench. 

“Never touch my sealskin.” He says, informing you of his rule. 

“I would never,” you vow, throat tight with emotion. He nods at you, and then smiles. “Well come on then, out with the questions.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice, beckoning you close. You sit by him and let the questions start. They pour out of your lips and he answers them readily with a gleam in his eyes. 

You’ve never been this close to him and you really soak in his appearance. His tail is mottled with creamy spots and patches, reminding you a little of your own birthmark. His lower half looks so soft and squishy but you know it must be powerful. Hair dusts his chest and other human skin, the curls making you want to run your hands over them. 

It feels like some beautiful dream. You thank him for sharing this part of him with you and head home for the day, but as soon as you’re inside you're doubting that it really happened. But it did, and you see him again and again, each time feeling less like a daydream and more like a wonderful and magical reality. 

“Your hair is going to get so tangled like that,” you tell him one day as he swims, watching his hair trail after him in the water. You wince in sympathy when you imagine him picking out the knots. 

He grunts, “You’re telling me, I go through so much conditioner getting the knots out,” he responds, peeved. 

“Well swimming with it down would do that! Why don’t you let me braid it?” you offer, instantly regretting it. The thought of sitting that close to him, of feeling the heat off of his skin as you run your hands through his hair is enough to make you feel light headed. Say no thanks, you think, unsure how you’ll handle this. Of course, he readily agrees. 

“Okay,” he smiles, and you turn to let him get out of his sealskin and cover up. He sits in front of you and his shoulders part your thick thighs. You pick up his hair and it’s a matted mess. You don’t feel like running up to your house to get any tools so you slowly part the tangles with your fingers.

“It’s a knotted mess, Aegis,” you scold, trying not to hurt his scalp. He whines and exaggerates his wincing, acting as if you’re wounding him. “Big baby,” you mutter, sectioning off chunks with your hands. By the time it’s braided and secured with your extra tie the sun is going down. He’s slumped against you, sleepy. 

“It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow, pretty girl. Swim with me?” he asks, voice slurred. You’re hesitant, not because you don’t trust him, but you’re a bit embarrassed about the idea of him seeing so much of your body. 

“I have a birthmark,” you mutter, not looking at him. He turns and frowns at you with his forehead scrunched. 

“Okay, and? You don’t owe me anything, but you know I have a literal tail right?”

“Oh what, you showed me yours and now I show you mine?” you giggle at him.

“I don’t think I’ve shown you anything yet,” he winks at you, flirting back while he gets up. The two of you get ready to leave your beach, packing things away. Aegis grabs his sealskin, but instead of putting it on he neatly folds it. “Would you give me a ride home? If you don’t mind, I mean. All dried off and I don't want to get in again.”

“Of course, just let me get my keys.” 

The drive is quiet and comfortable, and his house isn’t far. To be fair though, nothing in this town is very far. When you pull into his driveway he leans over and kisses you on the cheek, eliciting a small gasp from you. 

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” he tells you, an easy smile on his face. You feel your own heat up and you mumble back a goodnight. Your cheek tingles with his kiss your whole drive home. 

In the morning you’re there earlier than normal and in your bathing suit trying not to look nervous about his reaction. Your birthmark stretches across and over a great deal of your skin, and while a lot of people assure you that it is unique and beautiful, you have been ridiculed plenty for it in the past. It makes you nervous to show new people and you only reveal it to those you trust. But you trust Aegis and he obviously trusts you too. 

It’s as if Aegis can sense your nerves because he doesn’t make you wait long and talks you into the water right away. He compliments you but doesn’t linger or talk about your birthmark, only pulling you in the water with him. The cold has you sucking in air and your nipples pebbling in your swimsuit but Aegis pulls you close. The heat coming off of his body works to warm you, making the swim much more doable. 

“You’re not luring me out into the ocean to drown me or anything, right?” you ask, legs bumping into his tail. 

“I’m a selkie, not a siren,” he tsks, “we’re much nicer, I might just dunk you a few times,” he retorts, swimming further out. 

“Um, are there sharks out here?” you ask him, suddenly aware of how far you are from shore.

“I’ve never had a problem with them,” he shrugs casually, doing nothing to assuage your worries. 

“Sharks eat seals, ya know,” you point out to him.

“Good thing I have you here to protect me then, huh?” he teases, curling your legs around his middle. Once you’re secure, he gives a few strong thrusts of his tail and sends the two of you back closer to shore. You play in the water most of the day and go up to your house to eat. He showers and you take him home again, only after he insists you re-braid his hair. 

You spend more time together and swimming with him quickly becomes the best part of your day. He kisses your cheek every time you drop him off at home too, his lips lingering more and more. The touches shared as you swim together have gotten less and less innocent as well. You find yourself falling for him and you think he likes you too, but one day the two of you reach a breaking point. You’re having a nice picnic after a long swim when things take a turn. 

You reach across Aegis’s lap for the pitcher of juice, rattling on about your day, when it slips out of your hand. It spills onto his seal skin, and you don’t think you’ve ever panicked so quickly. “I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh let me clean that,” you grab towels to try to dab up your mess, picking up his seal skin in the process. Apologies keep falling from your lips but then you notice that Aegis is just staring at you with a clenched jaw. You gasp and drop the sealskin, realizing what you’ve done. As soon as it falls from your grasp, Aegis has it in his own, finally able to move to do so. He stands and starts to walk towards the shore and already has the sealskin halfway wrapped around himself before you can belt out another apology. 

He wades into the water and you run to try to catch up. You get close, begging him to wait, until he finally turns to you. “I had one rule!” he barks out at you, seething. “You’re just like everyone else! How dare you!” His words are laced with venom, and you can’t help but step back as if he’s striked you. There is a block in your throat and you don’t say anything else, you only stand there and watch him leave, taking his selkie form and swimming into the depths. 

Pitiful whimpering noises start to leave you, and since you’re all alone you let yourself cry. You’re ashamed you slipped up and touched his pelt, unable to get the betrayed look on his face out of your head. You’re angry at him too for not listening or giving you the benefit of the doubt, though. Some friend he was, you pout, shakily hiking up the cliffside. 

You hope that Aegis will come around. The guilt is like rolling concrete in your stomach and you try to assure yourself that things will be okay. You just go through the motions to try to make yourself feel better, showering and taking your time brushing out your hair. Everytime you blink, though, his angry eyes are there, looking so accusatory back at you. It was an accident, you know you didn’t mean to, you tell yourself, wishing you could take back your mistake. 

You go back to your beach the next day, hoping he’ll be there. He isn’t, and he isn’t there the next either. Or the day after that. You’re getting fed up with him avoiding you. You just want to talk things out and have your friend back, but it seems as though he is  set on being stubborn about it. 

You’ve been stress cooking the last few days, and when you looked to survey the damage you realize that you made most of Aegis’s favorite foods. The plan falls together then and you package it up to bring it to him at work. This could very well be crossing some boundaries but you could deal with that if it meant Aegis would forgive you. 

Traversing the docks is just as nerve racking at it was the first time, this time maybe even more so since you’re carrying a hot dish with you. You duck under the arms of the people towering over you, and you finally get to the stretch of winding docks Aegis can usually be found dwelling on. And he is there, sitting right next to his boat like you expect him to be. What you don’t expect, however, is the stunning woman sitting next to him, stroking his arm in a too familiar way. She’s almost tall as he is with a scarf tied around her hair in an effortless way. You feel your heart sink into your stomach when they both turn and see you. 

All of the sudden you feel ridiculous and humiliated, standing on the docks with a tupperware of food for a man who has already apparently moved on from you. You’re a deer caught in the headlights, but the woman starts to stand and smile at you. You pivot on your feet and hurry back the way you came, maneuvering through the crowd with a level of ease provided by your small stature. The whole walk home your face is burning in embarrassment. This isn't some stubborn silent treatment after a fight. You had broken his one rule and now all the romantic gestures and sweet words meant nothing. 

You know there was nothing official or set in stone, hell, the two of you hadn’t even really kissed yet, but it certainly felt like things were leading that way. Your eyes burn when you think of the way his lips lingered on your cheeks and the way he let you wrap yourself around him in the water. You think of him doing those things with another woman and feel sick to your stomach. You enjoyed life just fine before you met him, and you tell yourself you will enjoy life just the same now that he wants nothing to do with you. It was an obvious lie, especially to yourself. You cry when you reach the safety of your home, wrapping yourself in a nest of blankets you refuse to leave. 

You eventually have to leave though, just to get some fresh air and try to shock yourself into feeling better. Instead of walking your shore, you end up at one of the cliffs looking down on the water. You don’t stray too close to the edge in fear of the height but it still provides you a great view of the ocean. You sit and watch the waves crash against the rocks below. 

While you’re up there, you hear a car sputtering in the distance. You watch it get close and pull into your driveway and out steps one of the friends you made in town. His name is Jamie, and he works at the touristy coffee shop you frequent. “Hey!” he waves, walking over to you on gangly legs. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by, you’re always gushing about this place and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he tells you, giving you a boyish grin. He’s sweet and you don’t mind him joining you.

It feels good to reclaim your beach like this, hanging out with a new friend. Jamie is nice and genuine and has no rules to follow when it comes to your relationship with him. He feels safe and easy. After the first day he comes by, you don’t expect him to come back. But he does, he comes back again with your favorite drink order in hand. “I got your usual,” he tells you, a bright smile on his face when you open your door to him. 

“Aw thanks, you didn’t have to do that!” you tell him, excited and flattered by the gesture. He just shrugs and smiles at you more, scratching at the back of his neck. “Let me just get my coat,” you say, ready for another walk on the beach. He is too, and you spend the day rattling on to one another. He’s a little awkward and it makes you feel awkward too, but it’s more endearing than anything. You can’t help that your gaze keeps wandering out to the sea, waiting to see Aegis between the waves. You don’t, though, even if you think you feel his eyes on you. 

“You okay?” 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, “Sorry,” you smile, “just daydreaming a bit is all.” Daydreaming about your days here spent with Aegis, the sun shining in his ocean grey eyes. You miss him and wish things had ended differently. 

Jamie sits on a rock and you follow his lead, getting comfortable and enjoying the rare moment of sunshine. Jamie suddenly clears his throat next to you, catching your attention. “Would you,” he sputters on, his cheeks pink, “would you want to go on a date sometime? I’d really love to take you on one.” Your heart is pounding and ears are ringing. This sort of thing always makes you anxious but you’re stopped before you’re able to respond. 

“No.”

A firm and angry voice sounds from behind you. If you thought you were nervous before, it was nothing compared to this. Jamie’s gaze is locked above your head and he looks confused. 

“Uh, I wasn’t asking you?” 

“She will not be going on a date with you. I’d say sorry but I’m not,” Aegis snaps out, and you stop yourself from turning to look at him. 

“Aegis, what the fuck?” The woman from before is there too then, and you finally look at them. They’re both dripping wet and carrying seal skins. The woman is a selkie too, then. Your heart drops and it makes sense he would rather be with her. She was gorgeous and surely easier to trust than a human. 

 “I’m so sorry for my brother’s behavior,” she scowls, “he can be a real dickhead sometimes.” 

“Brother?” you ask, shock lacing your voice. Aegis and his sister snap their attention to you, then, and his face morphs from a mask of fury to one of understanding and sadness. He comes closer after a pause. 

“Yes, sweet girl, my sister. You thought the worst of me, yeah?”

Jamie chimes in “Uh, sweet girl?” he asks “Oh! Oh shoot, sorry, gosh, sorry I thought you were single.” Jamie looks at you though, and sees your red cheeks and your inability to form a response and comes to your aid. “Actually, do you want to go home? You look uncomfortable.” You just nod and get your things, grateful to have a friend like him. 

“Yeah, I think I should head home. Um, I’ll talk to you later Jamie. Nice to meet you, by the way,” you say, polite and looking at Aegis’s sister.

“Were you...swimming? It’s freezing!” is the last thing you hear Jamie say before you’re rushing away.

Aegis tails you to your house, pleading with you. “Please, at least let me talk to you,” he begs, desperation clear in his voice. You’re out of breath from your quick ascent up from the beach and too flustered and embarrassed to talk to him. You’re angry that he thinks he could ignore you after blowing up on you and then come back acting like he had some sort of claim on you. 

“Not now,” is all you manage to say.

“Aegis! For fucks sake, leave her be!” his sister yells out, and you’re grateful for the intervening. You head inside your house and leave the rest of them outside. Jamie leaves and Aegis and his sister head back down towards the water, likely leaving the same way they came. Aegis looks back several times, catching your eye in the window. I’ll talk to him soon, you think. Just not right now, not until you sort out the mess of feelings you have. 

You can’t help but be conflicted. Seeing Aegis standing there dripping wet and all possessive over you stirred your desire. You have to remind yourself to be angry and stand your ground. He needs to learn how to communicate, not just act like a neanderthal and manage to win you back based on sheer attractiveness. His words still stung and he had lots of making up to do. 

As you busy yourself in your home, you see dark clouds gathering through your window. You turn on the local news and it looks like a bad storm is set to ravage your town. You’re nervous. You knew the rainy season could be bad here but the locals often discussed the occasional hurricane-eske storms that tear through. You are unsure how well your home will hold up. You try to secure what you can and get ready to hunker down for a while. 

Sure enough, thunder starts to rumble. It’s deep and shakes the earth beneath you. The wind and rain howl outside and you pray your generator holds up. You entertain yourself for a bit, curled up watching a movie, but soon enough the weather is too bad to concentrate on anything else. When an especially loud bout of thunder hits you start to feel panicky. It rattles your windows and you make a point to stay away from them. They rattle so loudly that you almost miss the pounding on your door. 

Almost, though. When you realize someone is knocking your heart beats even faster. You pick up the closest thing you could use as a weapon, unsure who could be here. You peek through and see Aegis standing outside, soaked to the bone. You’re relieved that it’s him, but not entirely happy he’s here. You wrench the door open and allow him in, the wind promptly slamming the door back into place. He settles onto a stool and you stay on the opposite side of the room, occupying yourself with looking outside.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he explains, and you nod. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I didn’t mean to touch it, Aegis. I really didn’t! And you know that and still left,” you manage to get out past the knot in your throat. 

“Aye, I know. I made a mistake, I got angry.” His voice gets softer, “I got scared, my sweet girl.” 

You sniffle and look away, annoyed at the effect he has on you. He crumbles down your walls one word at a time. 

“I was stupid and didn’t know what to do. My sister had to come talk some sense into me.”

“I didn’t think she was your sister,” you mumble and he nods, giving you a watery smile.

“I’m sorry for that, too. After I saw you with that man on the beach I was so angry. She reminded me I had no right to be, I had no claim on you. I didn’t like hearing that,” he says. He stands then, eyes locked on your own.

You are on the other side of the room, backed up against your wall. As if the space between you could stop the pull of your heart. Your eyes are wide and flooded over and you don’t care to hold your tears back anymore. He walks towards you and he holds his sealskin in his hands. The closer he gets to you, the more you can feel your knees buckling. You feel them lock right as Aegis locks an arm around your waist, wrapping his seal skin over your shoulders at the same moment. When the pelt brushes against your skin and envelops you in its warmth, you feel more at peace than you have in days. It is like Aegis’s very being is intertwining around yours. His essence permeates through your skin and curls around your cells, and you relish it and relax into his hold. You knew the sealskin had magic to it but you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.  

“What-what are you doing?” you whimper out, making no move to stop him.

“I want you to know I trust you. I want you to trust me too. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, sweet girl,” he says. “After my tantrum and being away from you, I realized I’d give you my damn sealskin if it meant I could be yours.” He wipes away your stray tears and brushes your hair out of your face, gentling you. “Shhh, I’ve got you. No more crying, not because of me,” he pleads. 

“O-okay,” you reply, wobbly and unsure what else to say. The euphoric feeling of his sealskin is still lingering and you know he’s speaking the truth to you.  

“My love,” he cooes, “won’t you let me earn your forgiveness?”

You sniffle and nod, stretching toward him for a kiss, a real one. He obliges you, his bearch a scratchy comfort to your flushed skin, grounding you. He tastes like salt and wind, his kiss flavored by the sea. It’s chaste but perfect and when lightning strikes and sounds you break away from his lips only to curl further into his arms. A fearful noise escapes you and you bury your face into his neck. His hands rub your back and you take some deep breaths. If your house has lasted this long then it’ll be okay. You’re safe in his arms with his sealskin warm around you. 

You pull back, intent on kissing him more thoroughly this time. He is eager too and pulls you flush against him. He pulls you away from the wall and shuffles you onto the couch, not allowing a centimeter space to form between your bodies. You kiss him over and over, soft moans leaving you every time his lips mould to your own. His hands find your skin under your sweater and you are eager for more, burying your own in his hair. . 

“Let me lay you down,” he says, “let me show you how much I missed you.” 

Heat has gathered between your legs and the tingling of the sealskin on your flesh feels as though it has concentrated itself there. You pinch them together and he notices, pulling a leg over his hip to grind into your center. You whimper into his mouth, his lips pulling into a smile. He strips you of your sweater and makes sure to plant kisses across your birthmark. You lose the rest of your clothes and as his hands wander, so do your own. 

You tease his waistband, slowly slipping your hand inside. He rumbles a deep encouraging noise and you take him in hand. His cock is thick and heavy, pulsing in your grasp. It’s bigger than anything you’ve taken before and you aren’t sure that it’ll fit. You tell him as much, looking up at him with wide lust filled eyes. 

“It’ll fit sweetheart,” he whispers, his fingers tracing the crease of your labia. “I’ll make sure you’re ready for me.” 

He parts your folds and coats his fingers, your legs spreading to give him more room. He dips the tips of his fingers just barely inside of you, becoming familiar with your entrance. You aren’t good at being patient, though, and his cock is so close. You arch and moan, shifting further toward him and presenting yourself only for him to halt your movements. “Don’t tease,” you whimper out, only earning an amused laugh from your selkie. 

“Alright then,” he kisses you with a smiling mouth, “no teasing,” he says, promptly thrusting two of his thick digits into you. A surprised moan is torn from your throat and he glides through your walls easily, aided by your arousal. He scissors and curls his fingers in and out, stretching you open for him and spreading around your wetness. His thumb finds you clit and your mouth falls open, making room for his tongue to tangle with your own in a sloppy kiss that makes your cunt tighten.  

“Please,” you beg him, “I want you,”

“You beg so pretty,” he relents, fingers retreating after a final movement. 

He places himself between your legs, bending to kiss you again as he does. He kisses your cheek too before rising back up. He presses and rubs himself between your lips, making sure he’s covered in your wetness. His hips stutter when the head of his cock meets your folds but you paw at his shoulders, wordlessly pleading with him to continue. As he splits you apart underneath him a shaky breath leaves his lips. He hilts himself and stays there for a moment, soaking in the feel of your velvet cunt pulsing around him. You tighten around him in an attempt to get him to move. You try to tilt your hips up but he grabs them, forcing them in place. 

“Don’t move,” he gasps out, looking strung out above you. His head is tilted back and his eyes are closed. He’s beautiful and all yours. The magic of his pelt connects the two of you on a deeper level that has you feeling floaty and out of control, but the stretch of his cock and feel of his hands ground you.

A whine leaves you and you clench down on him, hoping to spur him into action. “Fuck,” he sputters, pushing even harder into you. You can feel him so deeply and it’s impossible to tell where one of you ends and the other begins. 

“Aegis,” you moan out, “move, please.” you cry out, nails digging into him. With a clenched jaw he follows your request. He retreats then pumps into you again, slowly but forcefully. His pace starts slow and he fully hilts himself inside of you each time. Your hips twitch up and the head of his cock notches against a spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling up into your head. He notices and makes a point to angle his hips toward it. Your legs turn to jello as he speeds up, snapping his legs against you. You reach down and rub your clit, Aegis encouraging you. 

“You take me so well. Fucking made to be wrapped around me, weren’t you?” he says, “That’s right, take your pleasure,” he whispers, his hot breath on the shell of your ear. His words have a tightness building in your gut, the coil wrapping tighter and tighter until you cry out in release. With you cumming underneath him Aegis can’t hold back any longer. He drives into you with rhythmless thrusts and moans out above you, a high pornographic sound that has aftershocks running through you as he spills inside of you. Little jerks of his hips extend your pleasure as the two of you slowly sink together.

Aegis is twitching and cooing at you as the haze clears from your mind. He wraps his arms and legs around you, the heavy limbs tangling with your own. He nuzzles into you as content as can be. Sweat is cooling on your skin and he covers the two of you with a throw blanket, the storm outside long forgotten. Your face is peppered in kisses as you drift to sleep, his pelt still a comfort underneath you. 

#Monster #monster x reader #monster lover #exophilia #exophilia creators #Selkie Boyfriend #selkie #selkie x reader #monster lemon #monster boyfriend #My writing #commission

[poohkeepsee]

I was going through my AO3 bookmarks, and I wanted to organize them a little bit. These are my Dean/Cas canon-ish fic recs.

season 5

canticles  by  2street2car Words: 10,311     Chapters: 1

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

FTBYAM MY BELOVED

post season 6

Someone Who's Feeling For Me  by  ellispark  Words: 45,876     Chapters: 1

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

post bunker

Sun Can't Set Until Nine  by  LeverDrift Words: 67,939     Chapters: 16

Cas moves into the bunker as his powers start to fail. Dean doesn’t know if the arrangement is as permanent as he wants it to be. He's also not sure why he keeps dreaming about his friend. All he knows is that he wants Cas to stay. Overall warnings: canon-typical miscommunication & Dean having self-hatred issues.

Life Skills  by  ilovehowyouletmefall           Words: 26,052     Chapters: 3

After Metatron steals Castiel's grace, and Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human.  And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

Sam Stole My Boyfriend  by  sobsicles    Words: 8,445     Chapters: 1

“Dude, you’ve been staring at me a lot lately, like even enough that Sam noticed. More than usual. So, like, what’s up?” Dean pauses, purses his lips and reconsiders. “What did I do?”

Cas knows that would be a perfect time to confess to Dean what exactly happened and what he was thinking. Maybe, Dean had some insight into the situation or even some kind of comfort to offer. But, the longer that he sat there, he realized that he could not tell Dean absolutely anything. So instead, for the first time, Cas fumbled.

“Um,” Cas mutters and abruptly stands. “Freckles?”

Dean blinked up at him as Cas pivoted and left the room. There was only one remaining option he had and unfortunately, it involved Sam.

Aching in the Absence of You  by  sobsicles Words: 95,090     Chapters: 10

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back.

He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales.

"Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time.

By nightfall, Cas is gone.

'Communication'  by  JustAnotherSamlicker Words: 11,656

The same story told from two perspectives.

Dean bought a house and he and Cas fix it up.

Is Dean moving out? Is Cas moving in?

Should they just talk to each other already? (Yes they should)

Build a Home  by  domesticadventures Words: 20,102

After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.

He doesn't

season 10

The Most Important Thing  by  NorthernSparrow Words: 94,462     Chapters: 14

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

season 12

Heroes for Ghosts  by  pantheon_of_discord Words: 42,922     Chapters: 7

Canon-divergent from 12.08

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

season 13

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees)  by  sobsicles   Words: 74,173     Chapters: 8

Dean keeps going back.

When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

He likes to talk.

There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim  by  Sickandtiredofyou Words: 14,910   Chapters: 6

Dean has far too much on his plate, losing his mom, his best friend and now being a single parent to a newborn nephilim.

In which Jack is an actual newborn instead of a teenager.

post season 13

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)  by  sobsicles           Words:     108,427     Chapters:     4

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.

Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."

"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."

"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."

"Easier said than done."

Reasons to read this:

Dean reads a story that ends like despair and his reaction is FUCK THAT

Cas wears Dean's hoodie

Jack is a toddler

The Jack and Claire sibling energy we deserve

Eileen being awesome and pulling pranks with Dean while Sam thinks she's an angel

Sam knows

YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE

First Date  by  aeli_kindara Words: 8,968    Chapters: 1

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

Also known as the Dean Winchester makes the first move fic.

season 14

Broken Road  by  thegeminisage Words:     109,629     Chapters:     7

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

post season 15

fools and pilgrims  by  lagaudiere Words: 31,904     Chapters: 2

Claire shows up at the bunker a day before Dean was planning to leave, with her hair cut short and a fresh tattoo on her left arm under a bandage. Chuck is dead, Jack has given up his godlike powers, and Cas is back from the Empty, which doesn't make it any easier for Dean to talk to him. Suddenly finding himself in a world without monsters, supernatural forces, or any need for hunters, Dean's solution is to go on a road trip. Claire tags along.

Dean-Claire mirror fic post Despair

what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now)  by  sobsicles Words: 27,403

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

canon(?) au  (Hunters and Men of Letters)

Dean Winchester's Secret (Angel) Boyfriend  by  reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent Words: 11,191     Chapters: 1

Dean Winchester isn't exactly a team player. So when he starts mentioning a new Hunting partner, Ellen and Jo Harvelle aren't sure whether they should be worried or relieved.

But they're starting to get the feeling there's something important Dean's not telling them about Cas...

Shot Through The Heart  by  peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) Words: 11,191     Chapters: 1

Dean is a hunter.

Castiel is a Man of Letters.

And even though they have to work together on a regular basis, there is not much sympathy between them. Castiel thinks Dean too brash and reckless while Dean in return sees nothing more in the other man than a rude asshole with an obsessive love for books and a truly terrible fashion sense.

But fate clearly has a funny way of throwing those two together over and over again.

And somewhere along the way feelings change into something neither of them would have expected.

#destiel #deancas #fic recs

[lovelylogans]

the words you read (my heart’s been displayed)

how did you know 'cause I never told but you found out I've got a crush on you the words you read, my heart's been displayed you found out I've got a crush on you —“crush on you,” the jets

warnings: awkward clueless teenagers, crushes, slightly overbearing matchmaking uncles, mentions of government surveillance, mostly fluff, please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairing: virgil/logan, secondary patton/roman and janus/remus

word count: 5,761

notes: this is for day 5 of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “vocab card/skateboard” and i have decided to write about vocab card! please enjoy!

⁂

In Virgil’s opinion, Logan Sanders is the cutest boy in all of the sophomore grade.

He was the cutest boy in freshman year, too, and eighth grade, and seventh, and all the way back to kindergarten, but Logan’s changed over the summer. 

He’s sprouted up a few inches, so now he’s a half-head taller than Virgil. He still looks a little gangly, like he’s going to grow more. He’d always been shorter than Virgil before. He’d gotten new glasses, too, black frames that suit him way better than the silver ovals he’d used when they were little. His voice has gotten a bit deeper, his jawline’s gotten stronger, and Virgil’s helpless crush on him has only grown with Logan.

Logan isn’t just cute, either, he’s smart. He carries around stacks of notecards, blank and filled in, and there’s all sorts of things written on it—interesting fun facts and the latest slang terms, in rubber-banded stacks next to rubber-banded stacks of notecards of terms that will be on their next exam. Logan has a way of explaining anything and everything in a way that is really understandable and never makes you feel dumb. Logan’s always top of the class.

And to make matters worse, they’re next-door-locker-neighbors this year, because Chloe-who-was-between-them-alphabetically moved away. Which means that Virgil cannot quite get away with admiring Logan from afar, the way he has since they were little. Which means that when school starts, on the first day when Logan asks him what homeroom he’s in this year, Virgil’s brain can only go ahhhhHHHHHH and the fact that oh my God Logan is tall now oh my GOD Logan has the locker next to mine now! makes him delay his answer because he’s just staring at Logan, and Logan looks at him a little oddly and then repeats his question as if he thinks Virgil didn’t hear him, and Virgil kind of wants to crawl into his locker to hide there forever thanks.

“Oh,” he manages. He closes his locker. “Um. I’m in Mr. Morales’ homeroom this year.”

Logan smiles at him. Logan SMILES AT HIM. And then he says, “I am, as well. Perhaps we’ll be seated next to each other in homeroom, in addition to being locker neighbors. I would enjoy that.”

He would ENJOY THAT!!!!!

Logan clears his throat and fiddles with his glasses, finally just pushing them a little further up his nose, even though they’re pretty high up on his nose already. “Would you like to walk together to Mr. Morales’ classroom? I was in his home economics class last year, I know where it is.”

“Um, sure,” Virgil says, voice cracking embarrassingly, and he considers opening his locker back up again so that he can hide there. He’s pretty skinny, he might be able to fit.

So they walk to Mr. Morales’ classroom. Logan’s the one talking, mostly; Virgil’s grateful for that, because he’d probably just be rambling nervously the whole time, and it’d be tempting fate to have his voice crack in front of Logan again. But now he can just listen to Logan’s various opinions about their summer reading for their English class, which is much safer. He sure has a lot of opinions about it, which makes Virgil sweat a little nervously—Logan sounds like he’s ready to sit down and write an essay about it, as if they’re going to have to, and Virgil’s pretty sure that if he sat down to take a multiple-choice quiz about that book right now he’d flunk it.

They end up not being assigned to sit next to each other. Mr. Morales says to just sit wherever, since they’re all going to go to an assembly once he takes attendance anyways, and that he probably won’t assign seats for the whole year.

And then Logan ends up sitting next to him anyways.

Like he really meant that he’d like to be next to Virgil in homeroom.

Mr. Morales smiles at them, and then, inexplicably, gives Logan a double thumbs up? And then Logan’s cheeks go kind of red? Logan turns his face away from Mr. Morales, turning to more fully face Virgil.

“You were in his class last year, right?” Virgil says.

“Erm, yeah. Yes. I was.” Logan clears his throat, turning away from him. “He supervises my study hall, too.” Then he mumbles, “also he’s my uncle.”

“He’s your uncle?” Virgil repeats. This is news to him.

“Through marriage,” Logan explains. “Mr. Regnant is my father’s brother.”

Mr. Regnant is the arts-and-music teacher, and, though they don’t talk about it very much (students do, but then, students always gossip), Mr. Morales’ husband.

Mr. Regnant is also, not that Virgil would ever tell him so, Virgil’s favorite teacher.

“Which dad?” Virgil says, because Logan’s two dads were basically his only version of real-life gay representation when they were really little. He knows Mr. Sanders better than Logan’s other dad. 

Mr. Sanders always volunteered to be part of the PTA moms who supervised them during holiday parties and field trips, though, looking back, he doesn’t think the PTA moms liked him very much. The kids, on the other hand, loved Mr. Sanders, who would treat them like very short adults and once a year would bring in his mamba Eve for kids to pet and hold.

Logan’s other Dad had been the one who encouraged the kids to throw paints and roll around in the mud and tear things up. Logan’s other Dad had come to supervise one holiday party and was politely asked to never do so again.

“Not Pa—I mean, Janus,” Logan says, looking briefly embarrassed. “He’s Dad’s—Remus’—twin brother.”

Virgil makes an “ohhh” sound, because that makes sense. Now he’s thinking about it, Mr. Regnant and Logan’s dad really do look alike, if one looked past their contrasting senses of style. 

“That’s cool, though,” Virgil says thoughtfully. “That you’re related, I mean. Mr. Morales is really nice.”

“Yes, he is,” Logan says. “It’s been a bit strange to adjust to calling him Mr. Morales instead of Uncle Patton, though.”

“Yeah, I guess it probably would be,” Virgil says. 

The bell rings, and Mr. Morales ushers them off to the assembly.

Logan sits down next to him on the bleachers at the assembly, too. Their knees bump together as they listen to the principal welcome them back from summer vacation and give some announcements.

And Logan keeps sitting down next to him.

At lunch, in their two shared classes, in homeroom. He wishes Virgil a good morning and good afternoon every day at their locker. As the months of the school year slowly creep by, Virgil definitely does kind of feel like crawling into his locker, sometimes, but less and less so, because.

Because he and Logan are kind of friends now.

Logan asks him about his favorite hot beverage and then starts bringing him chai when he and his uncles stop by a café before school. Virgil sketches out drawings of astronauts and space when Logan goes on a loving tirade about it that lasts, on-and-off, for a week. 

He still definitely has a crush on Logan. His increased presence near him is both a blessing and a curse.

They share earbuds and laugh at videos in homeroom, they sit quietly side-by-side and do their homework together in study hall. Virgil even tags along, sometimes, when Logan takes time out of his day to visit his uncles. His uncles always seem delighted whenever Virgil drops by, which Virgil guesses makes sense—Mr. Morales is just kind of Like That, and he’s been taking classes with Mr. Regnant since freshman year, and they’ve been sassing at each other for just about as long.

Logan makes those visits rare, though. He always seems a little self-conscious about how excited his uncles are during their visits, the way they elbow Logan and give him thumbs-ups and wiggle their eyebrows. Virgil doesn’t really get it—he thinks it’s nice that his uncles are so excited to see Logan with his friend.

But then his mom unexpectedly comes by and drops off his lunch and ruffles Virgil’s hair right in front of Logan, and Virgil spends the rest of the day going beet red even Logan assures him that it’s okay and he thinks it’s nice, something in his brain... clicks. A little bit. Even though it doesn’t make sense.

Does Logan...?

No, his brain tells him. There’s no way.

But Virgil keeps an eye out for the next week anyways.

On Monday, Logan’s uncles give him a ride to school and also drive him by the café, so Logan hands over a chai for Virgil. Virgil smiles and thanks him.

Have Logan’s ears always gone red whenever Virgil thanks him for bringing him tea?

On Tuesday, their fingers brush when Logan’s passing over a stack of notecards for Virgil to study for an upcoming exam during their study hall. Simultaneously, they look away from each other, redirecting their attention to their textbooks.

Have they always done that?

On Wednesday, Logan and Virgil swing by Mr. Morales’ classroom. After Virgil laughs at a somewhat sarcastic comment that Logan says, and redirects his attention to the sketch he’s been doing to turn in for approval for his end-of-semester art project, he peeks through his bangs to see Mr. Morales waving his hands eagerly, and Logan go red and gesture sharply for him to stop.

Has Mr. Morales always been so excited whenever he and Logan spend time in his classroom?

On Thursday, Logan seems chilled by the overenthusiastic air conditioning, so Virgil gives him a spare hoodie he had in his locker. Logan looks at him, looks away, and then proceeds to huddle in Virgil’s hoodie for the rest of the day, even after the school adjusts the temperature and it isn’t quite so cold.

By then, his brain saying no way! No way, you cannot afford to be wrong on this so you aren’t even going to try, there’s no way—

It’s after school on Thursday, and Virgil makes sure Logan has already gone home when he descends the stairs to Mr. Regnant’s art-and-music studio.

“Oh, Virgil, hey,” Mr. Regnant says, distracted, looking up from the sheet music he’s laying out across four desks. “Gimme a second, I’ve got the feedback for your sketch on my desk somewhere—”

Virgil looks to Mr. Regnant’s desk. He can’t even see the mug of pens on his desk that Virgil knows is there, it’s so buried in papers and models and paint palette piles. It’s like an avalanche waiting to happen.

“Uh, that’s not—you can give it to me tomorrow,” Virgil says awkwardly. “Um. That’s not why I’m here.”

Mr. Regnant blinks at him. “All right.”

“I,” he wipes his hands on his jeans and grimaces, not quite believing that he’s about to do this. “I need advice.”

Mr. Regnant pauses, before he manages to find an empty desk and sets down the sheet music. “Okay.”

“Before I say anything,” he says. “I need you to give me this advice as Mr. Regnant, faculty supervisor of the GSA club.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Regnant says. “Yeah, ‘course, Virgil. I’m always—”

“Mr. Regnant, faculty supervisor of the GSA club, is a separate person from Mr. Regnant, Logan’s Uncle Roman,” Virgil interrupts, twisting his fingers together anxiously. “Right?”

Mr. Regnant opens his mouth. Closes it. He gestures for Virgil to sit on one of the choir risers, settling there himself, but Virgil sits on the floor. This is a time in which floor-sitting is necessary.

“He could be,” Mr. Regnant says eventually.

“Well I need him to be,” Virgil snaps. “Okay?”

Mr. Regnant presses his lips together and nods.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little higher pitched. His lips twitch and he clears his throat. “Yeah! Yeah.”

“Oh my God, you’re about to laugh at me,” Virgil says, horrified. “I knew this was a terrible idea, forget it—”

“No!” Mr. Regnant says hastily. “No I’m not, no I’m not. I swear I’m not. Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA is not about to laugh.”

“Is Mr. Regnant Logan’s uncle about to laugh?!”

“I thought they were different people,” Mr. Regnant sasses back, seemingly on instinct, and Virgil buries his face in his hands and screams a little bit. Just a little bit.

“Shi—shoot, I mean shoot!” He says, and tugs lightly at Virgil’s arm. Virgil peeks at Mr. Regnant from between his fingers.

Mr. Regnant’s face is very serious. There is no more sign of lip-twitching, throat-clearing, or mirth in his eyes.

“Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA is here and listening,” he says. “Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA does not have any relatives to speak of. Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA does not have any twin brothers or nephews. What on earth even are those? Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA would have no idea. Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA doesn’t even have parents, or a husband, that’s how absolutely relative-less he is. Okay?”

“Mr. Regnant the faculty supervisor of the GSA is an asshole,” Virgil mutters.

“Faculty supervisor of the GSA is starting to not sound like words anymore,” Mr. Regnant says, “also, you are so lucky school is technically over, otherwise I would have totally given you a detention for language.”

“You’re such a hypocrite, you literally just almost swore.”

“Almost,” Mr. Regnant says, “is not the same as did. Now. What can I do for you, Virgil?”

Virgil takes a deep breath in.

“What do you do if you think the boy you have a crush on likes you back?”

Mr. Regnant’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, but otherwise, he doesn’t react.

“You could talk to him?”

“Okay, maybe I should be more specific,” Virgil says, “What do you do if you have an anxiety disorder, and you think the boy you have a crush on likes you back?”

“I know you’re not gonna like this,” Mr. Regnant says, “but my answer is still you could talk to him.” 

He holds up a hand before Virgil can protest. “I know it can be scary, I know it can be anxiety-inducing. I know that can be a deterrent for a perfectly neurotypical person, let alone someone who’s got a diagnosed anxiety disorder. But, I mean. Your only options, as I see them, are, A, tell him, or B, sit quietly and wait for him to maybe make the first move.”

“But how can I be sure?” He says.

“Well, why do you think he likes you back?” Mr. Regnant says reasonably.

So Virgil tells him. Virgil tells him all about it—thinking he was cute since they were kids, then suddenly becoming friends this year: the chai, the sketches, the music listening, the blushing and the awkward chats, and how they’re friends now but Virgil still really likes him in a romantic way.

“Does that sound like he likes me back?” he asks anxiously. 

Mr. Regnant bites his lip. “As the faculty supervisor of the GSA? I think it could definitely be likely.”

“Likely?” Virgil wails.

“Well, as the faculty supervisor of the GSA,” Mr. Regnant enunciates carefully, “I can’t be certain.”

“I can’t go and tell him based on if it’s just likely! I need to be sure he likes me back or else there’s a chance he says he doesn’t like me and then I’m going to have a heart attack and die!”

“Virgil! As the faculty supervisor of the GSA! I really think you should go for it!”

Mr. Regnant looks like he’s about to reach out and start shaking Virgil by the shoulders. His eyes are huge, the way he always looks at actors onstage who have forgotten their lines, like by just staring at them he’ll be able to psychically impart the script to them.

“Forget it,” Virgil groans and reaches for his backpack, swinging it over his shoulders and standing up. “I’m doomed to suffer in silence. Thanks, I guess, I’ll see you in class tomorrow. Please don’t tell anyone I told you all this.”

As Virgil is closing the classroom door behind him, he’s pretty sure he hears Mr. Regnant screeching.

Honestly, Virgil should be the one screeching. He can’t believe he just told him all that—who knows if Mr. Regnant will be able to keep the information of a crush concerning his nephew to himself?!

⁂

“Okay, here’s your mocha-with-extra-espresso, please don’t tell your Dads,” Uncle Patton says cheerfully, passing back a to-go cup to Logan. “And the chai! I think it’s very sweet that you keep getting this for him, kiddo.”

“Gestures are a good way to express affection,” Logan says anxiously, carefully setting the chai in a cupholder. “I’ve been trying to vary my approaches based off the five love languages. I’m not sure if it’s working.”

Uncle Roman in the passenger seat, his arm thrown over his eyes, makes a sound of great discontent, the way he’s been doing for the past week whenever Uncle Patton has tried to give him any advice concerning Virgil.

“Are you okay, Uncle Roman?” Logan asks again.

“Thinking about being the faculty supervisor to the GSA,” Uncle Roman moans, as if in pain.

“Is the club schedule about to be particularly busy?” Logan asks, frowning. “You typically enjoy your work with the GSA.”

“You could say that,” Uncle Roman says tightly, then groans again.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do personally, in order to relieve any undue stress,” Logan begins, but is cut off by Uncle Roman shrieking.

“Um,” Logan says, looking to Uncle Patton, who snorts, shaking his head.

“He just, um,” Uncle Patton says. “Well, I think something’s happened, except he told me he can’t tell me what it is without betraying someone’s trust, so.”

“I see,” Logan says, frowning, except for the part where he doesn’t see, really. But that happens fairly frequently with Papa and Dad. Honestly, it’s rather curious that Uncle Roman has not acted in a way that seems strange to outsiders. Dad does it all the time, and they’re twins.

Oh, well. He’s sure he’ll understand eventually.

“I’m fine,” Uncle Roman says, and he sniffs loudly. “I’m fine, it’s all—fine.”

Uncle Patton pats his hand sympathetically, before directing their car to school.

Logan sips his drink, before he says idly, “I think I’m going to tell him I’ve had a crush him today.”

Uncle Roman immediately spews coffee onto the windshield in an impressive spit-take. It is hilarious. Even though Uncle Roman is choking a little. 

Uncle Patton meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, his eyes bright with excitement. “Really?!”

“Really,” Logan confirms. “I mean, it’s been—it’s been a couple months. We are friendly enough. I do not think that Virgil will discard our friendship if I confess that I have had a crush on him since last year.”

“Well!” Uncle Patton says, so flustered that he accidentally turns on the windshield wipers when he means to signal a turn, and then when he tries to fix that he turns on his hazard lights, before he manages to get the car under control again. “Well, that’s great, kiddo! I’m so excited for you!”

“You are the smartest kid I know,” Uncle Roman says, turning in his seat to face Logan, his expression near-worshipful. “I love you.”

“Um. Thank you?”

“I know you don’t believe in psychics, but are you—?”

“Why are you bringing up psychics?” Logan says, perplexed. “I figured—well, I’ll tell him. And it is time that the Halloween festival will begin this weekend. That seems like a date that Virgil would enjoy.”

“Right,” Uncle Roman says. “Okay. Well—go for it! Please go for it!”

“I have already told you I will,” he says. 

“I think it’s gonna go great if you go for it!”

Strange. Uncle Roman is acting as if he has had too much caffeine. As far as Logan is aware, the beverage they have just stopped to get is his first coffee of the day, and he does not metabolize the effects of coffee that quickly.

“Right,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses and taking a sip of his coffee. Then, “Right.”

Then, “What if he says he doesn’t like me back?”

Uncle Roman throws his arm across his eyes and makes that same groaning sound again.

Uncle Patton absentmindedly reaches over and bracingly rubs Uncle Roman’s thigh, again meeting Logan’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Well, kiddo, if he says he doesn’t like you back,” he says, then frowns. “It’s understandable to be disappointed, or a little bit upset, but it’s important to accept his answer graciously and kindly. No means no. No is a full sentence. But Virgil seems like a very nice boy, I can’t imagine he’ll be very mean about it at all, and you two have gotten close over the past few months. It might be kind of awkward for a bit, but with a little work, your friendship will be able to survive it.”

“I suppose,” Logan says quietly, looking down at his lap.

“But,” Uncle Patton adds hastily, “I think the chances are really good for him saying yes to the date! We both do, don’t we, Roman?”

Uncle Roman lets out a very strangled “mm-hmm.”

Logan chews his lip, before he says timidly, “Can I borrow one of your phones to call my Dads?”

“Cupholder, just a bit in front of ya,” Patton says cheerfully. “You already know the password.”

Logan does. He swipes it in—his uncles’ wedding date—and presses on Papa’s contact number. Dad’s phone is lost more often than not, and almost always turns up in strange places, like inside the gateau he’d tried to make, or inside the neighbor’s rain gutters.

His father picks it up almost immediately.

“Patton, if this is about the adopt-a-thon, if I have told you once I have told you a thousand times—”

“Um, hi, Papa,” Logan says awkwardly; he does not want to get into the family squabble about sharing a pet between their households again. Eve is a sufficient pet, even if she’s not as cuddly as Uncle Patton might like.

His father’s voice transforms from chiding to concerned in a second. “Logan, is everything all right?”

“Yes, everyone is operating under adequate parameters,” Logan says. “Is Dad there?”

There’s the sound of something crashing in the background, as if on cue. Knowing Dad, it might have been.

“I’ll get him,” Papa says wearily.

He hears his Papa say Remus, our son is on the phone, please put down the—Uh, Jan, sexy-pie! I thought you were! On the way to work!—what the—REMUS, we’ve TALKED about this, how did you lay hands on a HERON—and then the conversation gets a good deal more muffled. He is pretty sure that Papa is shouting at Dad about capturing local wildlife again.

He waits patiently, before he hears the clatter of the phone being passed into someone’s hands, and Dad asks, “Did someone die?! Do you need help covering up a murder?!”

“Remus, please,” Papa groans, “the boy is too smart to implicate himself by opening the opportunity to be recorded over the phone lines.”

“That’s right, Logie-bear, the government is always watching,” Dad says solemnly. “Big brother, all hail. Also lean over and give my little brother a wet-willie for me, it’d be so funny—”

Logan, accustomed to conversations of this tone since birth, continues stolidly onward. “I’m going to tell Virgil I like him today.”

“Finally!” Dad hoots.

“That’s excellent, Logan,” Papa says placidly. “Please know that I am fully aware of the misogynistic roots of the what are your intentions discussion, and I’ve been doing research in order to make our version as feminist as possible. Also, your father has been warned to discuss minimal amounts of gore when he comes to our home.”

“What is the point of a shovel talk then!”

“We already agreed no shovel talk,” Papa says irritably. “When we threaten the boy, we’ll do it subtly.”

“Please don’t threaten him,” Logan says anxiously. “I don’t even know if he likes me back yet.”

“Of course he likes you back!” Dad says, outraged on his behalf. “Why the hell wouldn’t he like you back?!”

“How did you two know that you loved each other?” Logan asks. The question feels slightly childish, and he feels even more so when he curls up in his car seat, but he cannot deny the posture brings a certain level of comfort.

There’s a pregnant pause.

“We’ll tell you when you’re older,” Papa says.

“I’m sixteen in a matter of weeks!”

Dad makes an absurd gagging noise, because he is ridiculously averse to the concept of Logan (and therefore, himself and Papa) aging. Logan thinks that it might have to do with a latent existential crisis, but he has not asked, because knowing Dad, he will spin it out into thirteen separate absurd reasons, and ten of them will make Logan cringe away, repulsed.

“Trust my judgment on this,” Papa says. “You do not want to know the origins of how our romance developed. However, when we actually had the discussion concerning feelings, your father—”

“I wrote him a beautiful letter in my best calligraphy,” Dad says proudly, then, “You probably don’t want to hear about the ink, do you?”

“Is it disgusting?” Logan asks warily.

“Quite, but,” then, in a voice that literally every other person wouldn’t realize is Papa’s version of profound sappiness, “that’s your father.” 

There is the sound of kissing. Logan resists the urge to make a gagging noise of his own, because somehow, he is the mature one in the entire family.

“As it is, just,” Papa says, then sighs. “I cannot believe I am about to give such... Pattonish advice. But. As it is, just be yourself. If this boy likes you back—”

“—as he should, and if he doesn’t he’s in desperate need of a lobotomy,” Dad mutters.

“—then he will like you for you, just the way you are,” Papa says, as if Dad had not said anything remotely worrying. “Tap into your strengths, Logan. You are intelligent, and observant, and thoughtful—”

“—and the best son there is—”

“Well, that goes without saying, clearly,” Papa says. “As long as your confession comes from you, then there is no way that it can go wrong. You are simply too excellent a person for it not to.”

“Even if it turns out he doesn’t like me?” Logan says timidly.

“If it does, then have your uncle forge an excuse note for you to get out of school early today and we’ll plot accordingly,” Papa says evasively. “But I do not think that outcome likely.”

Logan chews his lip. Papa is the best liar he knows, but—

But hearing his encouragement is too comforting to really analyze if he is lying.

“Thanks, Dads.”

“Knock him dead, kid!” Dad shouts. “And if he doesn’t then I will!”

“What did we just say about discussing potential evidence over the phone lines,” Papa scolds, and Logan hangs up, smiling.

Just be yourself.

Uncle Pattonish advice it may be, it has given him an idea.

⁂

Waiting over this past week to see if Mr. Regnant will crack and spill to Mr. Morales, or even worse, Logan himself, has been absolutely agonizing and Virgil’s kicking himself over going to Mr. Regnant for advice surrounding Logan at all.

That morning, though, Mr. Morales is at his desk, and a chai is waiting for Virgil at their usual spot, but Logan is nowhere to be seen. Virgil tries his hardest not to act too much like he’s keeping an eye out for Logan, but he is pretty sure he’s not succeeding, because Mr. Morales is smiling at him way too wide.

He actually seems really excited about something. Like, Mr. Morales usually gets excited when it’s fresh chocolate chip cookie day at lunch, but this is beyond the pale for fresh chocolate chip cookie day. Maybe the assembly they have today is something special? Except Virgil’s pretty sure it’s to pass out honors for the last quarter and talk about fall sports. That’s nothing particularly special.

Logan slides into his seat just before the bell rings, though, wrapping a rubber band around one of his notecard stacks. It’s a thin stack, it must be for something that’s just started; usually Logan compiles every unit of every class into thick stacks, able to be differentiated by the different colors of the notecards. These are just basic white ones.

He fiddles with it, darting looks to Virgil as Patton takes attendance, and, as they’re all filing out of the door, Logan holds out the stack of notecards.

“Here,” he blurts out.

Virgil blinks. “I don’t think we have a test soon?”

“They’re not for a test,” Logan says. “Just—take them. Read them during assembly. Please,” he adds belatedly.

“Uh,” Virgil says and takes them. “Okay?”

“Okay!” Logan says and nods. “Okay. Okay. Great! Um—please take your time to consider them carefully, and I await your response,” and then he practically runs off to fall into line near Mr. Regnant.

So that’s... weird.

But Virgil sticks the notecards into his hoodie pocket, anyways, ready to read them during assembly like Logan directed.

He waits until the principal is droning on about the importance of school spirit to take the notecards out of his pocket.

He spares a glance for Logan—who is several rows ahead, near the faculty, sitting next to Mr. Morales and Mr. Regnant, Mr. Morales occasionally reaching over to rub Logan’s shoulder bracingly—and then angles the notecards so that a teacher looking into the crowd wouldn’t really be able to see them.

He stares at the title on the top notecard. Blinks hard. Blinks again. Looks down at Logan’s back, then back to the notecard.

Reasons why I have a crush on Virgil.

He reaches over to pinch himself. Nope. Not dreaming, then.

And Logan really doesn’t seem like the type of person to make a joke like this.

He flips the cards and reads them slowly, savoring each and every word written in Logan’s blocky, neat script.

He is exceptionally witty.

He is knowledgeable about a great many things, such as music, art, spiders, novels, and mental health issues.

He is sarcastic.

He is thoughtful and deliberate in the formation of his opinions, even ones as small as the proper preparation of chai.

He is very handsome.

He is never rude without reason, and when he is rude, it is usually because the other person is “an asshole” and should be receiving backlash.

He is a remarkably talented artist.

Virgil keeps reading on, he is, he is, he is...

When he gets to the end—I would like to take you on a date. I would also like to be boyfriends, though I understand if you would like to table that conversation until we have established a rapport. Please let me know if you would be amenable to that suggestion.—he feels kind of dizzy. His throat is tight, his heart is pounding, and his hands are so sweaty he’s had to wipe them off on his jeans twice already.

Is it really possible that someone as wonderful as Logan would think of him so highly? 

It’s like he’s describing someone entirely different—awkward, anxious Virgil couldn’t possibly be the snarky, witty, caring, deep-thinking guy that Logan’s writing about. There’s just no way. But, Virgil thinks, heart twisting, but Logan doesn’t lie about things like this. Is this the way Logan sees him?

Is it really possible that someone as wonderful as Logan would have a crush on him at all?

He likes Virgil. He wants to take Virgil on a date. He wants Virgil to be his boyfriend.

There’s the rumbling of everyone standing up from the bleachers, and Virgil jumps—has it really been the entire assembly?—and hastily gets to his feet, so he won’t get swept up in the crowd of students returning to their classrooms.

As he’s heading for the door, Logan practically materializes in front of him, hugging his books tightly to his chest.

“Did you read them?” He asks fretfully. Now that Virgil’s close to him, face-to-face, he isn’t sure if he’s ever seen Logan so nervous. He isn’t sure if he’s seen Logan nervous at all. Logan’s shifting his weight from foot to foot, drumming his fingers on his books, holding the books like they’re a teddy bear.

“Do you,” Virgil says, his voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “You really like me?”

“Since last year,” Logan admits.

“I’ve liked you since kindergarten,” Virgil blurts out.

Logan blinks at him, jaw dropping. Then he says, “Really?!”

“Really,” Virgil promises. “My mom has this journal entry saved where I kept writing about how I was going to be Mr. Virgil Sanders, oh my God, she’s going to be so embarrassing about this—”

Logan snorts, ducking his head. “You’ve withstood my uncles handily.”

“Your uncles are cool, though,” Virgil says, confused.

“My uncles are embarrassing,” Logan says, “and my Dads are going to be so weird, I’m very sorry in advance, but—but if you can handle all of that, then I’d—I’d really like to take you out to the Halloween festival. I’d really really like that.”

Virgil’s smiling so wide that it hurts his face. “I’d really really like that too.”

And then the bell rings, and the pair of them jump at the sudden loud noise.

“I—we have to go to class,” Logan says, sounding very put out.

“Yeah,” Virgil says, then, “I’ll see you at lunch?”

Logan beams at him. “Lunch sounds wonderful.”

Virgil hesitates, before he reaches out and places a hand on Logan’s shoulder. He leans in and presses his lips to Logan’s cheek.

Logan’s bright red when he pulls away.

“Lunch?” Virgil confirms.

“Lunch,” Logan squeaks out, his voice cracking.

They emerge from under the bleachers, and have to split ways. Even when Mr. Regnant pulls him out into the hall under the guise of talking about his project and starts whisper-shouting about “do you know how HARD IT WAS to keep QUIET when i KNEW all along that you both LIKED each other bacK,” even when Mr. Morales ducks his head into his math class to pass over papers and gives Virgil some super-obvious thumbs up, even after he texts his Mom and his mom sends him screenfuls of exclamation points and immediately asks him to invite Logan over so that she can show Logan all of Virgil’s baby pictures—

Virgil cannot stop smiling.

#my post #text #my fic #analogical #analogicalweek #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #logan sanders

[pbandjesse]

I am beat. It is only Tuesday. But it was not a bad day at all. I am just really hoping I have a good sleep tonight.

There was a total lunar eclipse last night. So James woke me up at 5am to see it. I was glad they did but I was also very dazed. Firstly when they woke me up it was absolutely freezing in here. The temperature dropped over night from almost 80 to in the 50s. And of course all of our windows were open. I went and changed into a sweatshirt before I joined them in the living room.

The moon was already starting to get covered. I was starving all of a sudden so I went and grabbed peanut butter crackers and milk. And waited for the moon to go away. Last time for three years. It feels almost like a ritual.

I was enjoying waiting with James but also my eye hurt and was watering a lot. I got eye drops but I was just really tired and cold. We stayed there watching until it was completely covered. And then we went back to bed.

I was shivering really bad. James put all 5 of our blankets in me. And the weight put me to sleep really fast.

I woke up for real at 9. And felt better. I liked the two separate sleeps. It made the second sleep feel like a nap and I think that made it easier to me.

And James had gotten me a bagel. I got dressed. I love my new dress. It has pockets. And I felt so cute. And we would chill for a while.

I had some stuff to do. But then Jessica texted and asked if I could come in an hour early to count some supplies. And so I had to get to work on my signs for puhtok tomorrow. And that was just fine. I would do 2 this morning and 2 when I got home.

After I did my first sign me and James walked across the street to the school to vote. There was no line so it wasn't a big deal. There were a lot more questions then I was prepared for but I think I used my best reading comprehension to pick the best answers. the one judge said my sunglasses were cute and I told her her poncho was cute. And I got a voting sticker. Did you even a really vote if you didn't take a picture of your sticker?

We went back home and I would finish my next sign. I then just wanted to chill on my phone and lay with James before I headed to the museum.

And the museum was great. Me and Kristen would spend an hour counting cardboard can lids. We would make stacks of 10 and once all the stacks were done we counted those. Jessica would come check on us at some point. And we all talked about staff and concerns and things going forward. Me and Kristen would gossip and talk about travel. About me and Jamess honeymoon. And her Disney trip. I told her me and Jess are thinking about a 2024 Disney trip and she gave some recommendations. It was really a fun time.

In the end we had 1800 lids. Goodness. It honestly isn't enough but the new order should be here by the new year but we have a lot of kids coming through so it's a thing we have to consider. Do we have enough materials. But we think it's all okay.

We would get ready for our adult tour group. And when they got there a half hour early we would jump right into it.

I loved my small group. They were a sign making company and I had all the young guys and two older guys. They were so silly. I would be friends with them honestly they were so much fun. Though because they wanted to like. Chat. I was stumbling on my words more then normal because I'm not great at making the tour a conversation. Like I kind of can but it's harder when it's a timed thing.

But we had fun. And saw lots of stuff. And then we would go to the cannery.

Leading a small adult hour cannery was interesting. It's mostly just cutting my intro. And I think me and Kristen did a great job. All of them wanted to be printers. Which was pretty funny. But everyone did great and I think they had a lot of fun.

While Kristen did the store I reset everything. And once they were finished the whole thing it was 330. Mike let them know they could explore the museum until 4. And so I made sure everyone knew so they could take pictures like they wanted. A really nice group.

Me and Kristen spent an hour cleaning oysters. Before we headed out. I noticed on the weekly calendar that I was scheduled for Thursday when I shouldn't have been. So I checked in with Mike and let him know. And Jessica would text me and thank me for noticing the mistake. I'm glad I said something so they have time to find someone else!

I was excited to go home. It would take a while because of a pretty bad car accident on my commute home. A car flipped over!! So I was stuck for a bit but soon enough I was home.

James was finishing up thank you cards. And we would make dinner. They made another load of bread. And I would make some soup. They made me a grilled cheese and went to do laundry. I love them so much.

I made myself get up at 630 and go to the studio. I would work on the last two signs. And I listened to the podcast I was on. I enjoyed listening to my story more then expected. I laughed when I talked a lot. Which is something I do when I'm nervous. But I think I did a good job. I'll post the link here after this goes up.

After I finished my signs I would finish my scarf. Which needs to be blocked still but I'm really pleased with it. And then I found a skeen of yarn that's wool and merino and I'm going to try to make some socks. Remember when I did that last year? I'm faster now so I'm excited to see what happens.

I worked on that until 830. And went to lay in bed with James. We were laughing at a videos and weird music videos. And it was great. I love being with James. And Sweetp was here being so cuddly. It's great.

I got a shower and felt pretty good. While I was doing my skincare routine my hands started shaking really hard. James got me cereal and I feel a little better now but I'm also just exhausted.

Tomorrow I have a stressful move between two jobs. I have puhtok from 9 until 2. And then avam from 2 until 5. I think it's 5. It might be 530. I'm mostly nervous about the commute. I am already in touch with the other educator and let her know I might be a few minutes late. But I will do my best to get out of puhtok ASAP. Like I know it will be okay. But I hate being late so it's stressful.

But I am excited for both things. And it will be a fun day.

I hope you all have a great sleep tonight. Take care of each other!! Goodnight!!

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 19: Toby

Ao3

Toby's chest hurt so bad it actually felt like someone was literally stabbing him in the heart. Still he didn't slow down, if anything he pedaled even harder. 

The girls were riding neck and neck with him, in just as much of a hurry to reach their destination.

He shouldn’t have flipped out at Jim yesterday. He shouldn’t have thrown back what he knew about the scars on his ankle just because he was pissed. Now this whole thing was ten times worse and it was all his fault.

It had been so hard, watching Jim go home every day for the past month and forcing himself not to say anything, even when Jim started to look more and more anxious every day. But you know who had it even worse? The guy doing the actual suffering.

Toby had heard the phrase victim blaming before, but he never really got it until now. He’d just been so insanely furious hearing Jim yell at them for lying when he hadn’t said an honest thing to them in months, and when they’d been doing everything they could to help him he hadn’t responded right--

The guy’s mom locked him in the basement and slashed up his ankle; what the hell was the ‘right’ way to act after that?

Now Jim was hurt really bad and he’d had to go to the hospital and he wasn’t in school today and he wasn’t answering his phone--

Toby needed to see if Jim was ok.

A throbbing pain that had nothing to do with the strain of pedaling uphill stabbed through his chest.

Or if not ok, alive and kicking.

He skidded to a stop on Jim’s lawn, stumbling off of his bike and running up to pound on the front door “Jim you’ve got about ten seconds to open this door before I’m breaking it down!”

Ok maybe that was the wrong thing to start off with considering he was there to apologize, but Toby would just add it to the list of things to grovel for forgiveness for after he saw that Jim was alright.

And just when he was about to make good on his threat, a hand grabbed his shoulder and started tugging him away. Toby jerked around to see who it was.

“Don’t try to stop me Darci,”

Her expression was soft in a way that made him feel even worse “I’m not, but Toby, I don't think anyone's home. All the lights are off and the car’s gone,” 

He snapped back around, heart plummeting when he saw that she was right. 

Jim and Dr. Lake weren’t here.

“And your Nana’s watching,”

Toby whirled, spotting Phil, one of Nana’s chess buddies, sitting in his car in their driveway with Nana stepping into the passenger seat. He stood there frozen for a few seconds before darting around Darci and sprinting across the cul de sac.

“Nana, wait! Stop stop stop!”

Phil, clearly startled, stopped the car in the middle of the street, Nana rolling down her window and poking her head out “Toby? What on earth is the matter?”

Besides the fact he didn’t want Nana witnessing him busting into Jim’s house, just because Jim had gone radio silent on them didn’t mean that Nana had stopped talking to Dr. Lake. So there was a chance she knew something they didn’t.

He slowed to a stop, panting “Have-- have you- have you heard what’s going on with Jim?”

Immediately her face shifted from confused to contrite “Oh yes Barbara told me, so sad that he got hurt, but he’s doing much better now,”

Toby heard the girls scurry up behind him.

“Do you know when they’ll be home from the hospital?”

“Didn’t Jim tell you?” Nana glanced at Phil, who took the hint and put the car into park before Nana turned and faced them again “They came home about two hours ago, but left for their spring break trip right away, Barbara and Jim won’t be back for about ten days,”

Toby actually felt his jaw drop open.

“B...But…” Claire stammered “Are they seriously going backpacking in Yosemite with Jim being all busted up?”

“I was surprised to, but Barbara said that Jim really didn’t want to miss their vacation, so they’re going to San Francisco and staying in a hotel instead,” the corners of Nana’s mouth tugged downwards into a frown, eyebrows drawing together “Did Jim not tell you any of this?”

Ok she had clearly picked up on the fact that things weren’t ‘Ok’ between Jim and them, and normally Toby would be trying to reassure Nana that everything really was cool, but right now he was too busy concentrating on not puking. 

They were gone. For ten days. Ten whole days Jim and Dr. Lake would be gone.

Plenty of time for another 'animal attack'. 

After an uncomfortably long silence Nana leaned back in her seat and redid her belt “I need to get to my cardiologist appointment now, but we can talk more when I get back,”

With that she nodded at Phil, who looked incredibly uncomfortable, but restarted the car and pulled away, leaving the four of them alone in the cul de sac, with nothing to do but slowly pick up their bikes and trudge into Toby’s garage. 

They’d screwed up. He’d screwed up. He’d screwed up so freaking bad. Yeah Jim was being a gigantic freaking hypocrite about the lying, but his mom locks him in the basement every other Tuesday. Of course the guy wasn’t acting rationally. 

He could still see the terrified look on Jim’s face while they yelled at him yesterday crystal clear.

And just because Jim was being a hypocrite didn’t mean that it wasn’t a dick move to lie to him about calling CPS.

And what they did yesterday….

Toby swallowed back another wave of nausea. Just thinking about what he’d done was enough to make him sick, he wanted to go back in time and smack some sense into himself.

He’d let his anger win out over everything else and started firing back at Jim, and then the girls had followed his lead. Pushing Jim so far over the edge that he went and started a fight with Psycho Steve of all people, who put him in the freaking hospital. Now Dr. Lake had taken him out of town and he wasn’t answering his phone--

His train of thought flew off the rails and crashed to a halt.

Jim and Dr. Lake were gone, and wouldn’t be back for over a week. Which meant that their house was going to be completely empty for that whole time.

Before the idea had even finished forming Toby knew what he had to do.

Immediately after propping his bike up against the wall Toby strode over to the toolbench and grabbed the items he was looking for. A doorstop, an unraveled wire coat hanger, and the biggest pair of bolt cutters Nana had been able to find at Home Depot.

Darci was the first to notice him “What are you doing with all that?”

“Snooping,”

Now Mary and Claire were looking at him to “What do you mean?”

“Jim and Dr. Lake are gone for spring break, and I think we all know that Jim is going to ignore any texts or messages we send. So I’m going straight to the source, I’m going into their house to get some real answers,”

The girls all shared an uncertain look “Toby…” Claire said slowly “You know that if you break in they won’t be able to use anything you find as evidence, right?”

He wilted a little, but tightened his grip on the bolt cutters at the same time “I know, but this might be the only chance to find out what’s really happening to Jim. And if I can figure that out, maybe I can figure out how to get Jim to let us help him,”

Toby turned and then hesitated, dragging the toe of his shoe on the concrete “I won’t ask you guys to come with me, but I need to do this,”

Knowing that if he waited any longer he was going to chicken out, Toby raised his foot and strode out of the garage, making a beeline for the Lake house. After a few seconds he heard footsteps behind him as the girls started to follow.

And even though he knew he’d do this alone if he had to, it felt really really good that he didn’t have to.

Once he got to Jim’s garage, Toby pulled a trash can up to the door and stood on it. Boosting him up high enough to wedge the door stop between the garage door and the frame, reaching in with the coathanger until he snagged the cord and pulled it down within arm’s reach. Cord in hand, Toby yanked until he felt it give, allowing him to slide up the garage door with ease.

Stepping down and picking up the trash can, Toby turned to go put it back when he saw Claire, Darci, and Mary staring at him with big eyes.

“Toby…” Mary said slowly “How did you know how to do that?”

“Oh, uh…” he felt his face heat up “Nana showed me how when Meow Meow PI got locked in our garage, then she made me promise not to tell anyone….so please don’t tell anyone,”

“We won’t but you are going to have to teach us that one,”

Once the trash can was back in place they headed in, Toby pulling the garage door shut behind them “Where should we start?” Darci whispered, even though it was only the four of them in the deserted house.

Toby glanced around, tool bench, picnic coolers, spare fridge, chest freezer-- He froze, eyes locked on the chest freezer pushed back against the far wall. The one that was always kept padlocked for reasons he’d never questioned until now. The only reason he could think of to keep a freezer locked would be--

He shoved the idea away before a picture could form in his head. 

But now he needed to see for himself to make sure that the thought he was desperately trying not to think about wasn’t true.

“Here,” he strode over, and with only slightly shaking hands, cut the metal U of the latch off with two snaps of the bolt cutters, the unopened lock clattering to the floor. It was actually easier than he thought it would be, of course the bolt cutters were ginormous compared to the latch.

The girls gathered in close as he popped the now empty latch and slowly lifted the lid.

First off there weren’t any dead bodies staring back at them, so that was good. It looked like the freezer was just stuffed with regular plastic grocery packages. But why put a lock on ordinary food? Maybe they really were worried about racoons, those were a menace in this neighborhood. 

Despite that perfectly rational, reasonable explanation, Toby couldn’t shake the feeling that something looked off about the food in front of him, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It only took a few more seconds of staring for him to figure it out. He didn’t recognize any of the labels on these packages. And he and Jim had done a lot of grocery shopping together. Jim going on and on about all the subtle differences in flavor between different items and different brands.

That’s how Toby knew with absolute certainty that this stuff wasn’t anything you could buy at any grocery store in Arcadia Oaks. Because in all of their trips shopping together, they’d never bought any of the items in this freezer.

Reaching past him, Claire gingerly picked up something shrink wrapped in blue and yellow plastic “Beef sweetbreads?”

Toby eyed the package suspiciously “Bread doesn’t come from beef,”

“Sweetbreads aren’t bread, they’re organ meat,”

“Ew,”

“Hey they’re actually pretty good when you cook them right,”

Even more curious now, they all started reaching in and rifling through the frozen packages in front of them.

“It looks like this is just a bunch of meat,” Darci said while holding up a bag of beef bones by the corner between her thumb and forefinger.

Mary wrinkled her nose at a package of chicken livers “Yeah, but I’ve never seen Jim cook with any of this stuff,” she peered in Toby’s direction “Have you?”

His mouth went dry, nausea creeping back in “No, I haven’t,”

They kept digging, plastic packs of meat piling up on the floor around them, and the deeper they went the weirder things got. Eventually hitting what looked like whole small animals, cleaned and skinned and sealed in shrink wrap. Toby lifted one of them out, guts squirming in his belly “Guys, what are these?”

Claire leaned over and read off a tiny label on the corner of the package “It says whole rabbit,”

This kept getting freakier and freakier, Jim had never cooked rabbit meat before, let alone roasting them whole. 

Darci and Mary cleared off the rest of the rabbits to uncover a massive package at the bottom, one that would have taken all four of them to lift out, bright red of raw muscle showing clearly against the white of the freezer. But unlike everything else in here, this one had clearly been opened and resealed multiple times, with chunks of meat taken off, proving that someone was taking stuff out of this freezer and using it on a regular basis 

“This one says whole bison leg,” Darci said quietly.

A chill went through him, and not because he was standing in front of an open freezer.

“Oh my god, I just can’t--” Mary darted away, running to the wall farthest away from the freezer and slumping against it, gasping and shaking. Claire immediately ran over and put an arm around her shoulders, leaving Toby and Darci standing in front of the freezer.

“Toby,” Darci’s voice was a monotone, her eyes locked on the frozen leg in front of them “Are you absolutely sure that Jim never cooked with any of this stuff,”

“Positive,”

“Then...what do they do with all this?”

Toby’s stomach shrank in on itself “I don’t know,”

Were they trying to bait racoons or something? It was the only thing Toby could think of, but if they were, why? And he was pretty sure there was a lot cheaper stuff out there they could use for racoon bait. But if they weren’t using it as bait then what they hell were they doing with all this weird meat? And why the lock?

Pulling in a deep breath through her nose, Darci slowly started putting the packages they’d taken out back in the freezer “Ok, we’re not going to find anything else out here, we need to clean up and keep looking,”

Fighting past the painful tightness in his abdomen, Toby grabbed a rabbit and joined her. Claire eventually came over to help them, but Mary stayed far away until the lid of the freezer was shut.

“Um, Toby…” she said, walking back up to join them “How are we going to put the lock back on when you cut it off?”

“Easy,” he walked over to the toolbench and picked up a small bottle “Instant set Gorilla glue,”

And with two quick dabs of glue and Mary holding the pieces for him, the lock and the latch looked nearly as good as new. The latch did look a little funky from where the cutters had gone through, but Toby was pretty sure Jim and Dr. Lake wouldn’t notice it.

Now time to search the rest of the house.

Toby headed through the side door into the main house with the girls just behind him, pausing just inside the hall while he tried to figure out the best place to search first.

“Let’s look in Dr. Lake’s bedroom,”

All three of them slowly turned towards Mary.

“I mean…” her cheeks filled with red “If she’s hiding something chances are it would be in there,”

Claire nodded at that “You’re right, let’s go,”

The girls headed towards the stairs, but Toby hung back. Darci paused at the foot of the stairs, glancing back at him “Everything ok Toby?”

Even knowing what he knew, about the basement and the scars and all the other strange stuff. There was a part of him that still thought of Dr. Lake as….Dr. Lake. His friend’s fun, sometimes goofy mom, the one that took them to theme parks and gave the best presents on birthdays and holidays, who was never too busy to talk and always happy to see him. Going into her room and snooping through all her stuff felt...wrong.

All the girls were looking at him now, seeing what the hold up was.

Toby clenched his jaw and raised his head.

But no matter how bad he felt about it Toby couldn’t let his guilty conscience get in the way. Dr. Lake….Dr. Lake wasn’t who he thought she was, and Jim was in real trouble. This was the only way he could help him. That meant he had to suck it up and follow through.

He’d come this far already.

“Y-- yeah I’m fine, let’s go,” Toby forced his feet to move and followed them up the stairs into the back bedroom. His throat tightening when he saw Mary dive straight into going through her dresser, even as he set aside his tools and got down on his knees to join her. 

They spent nearly two hours going through the room from top to bottom. Searching the closet, every drawer in the dresser, under the bed and in the nightstand, every single nook and cranny in the room, even under the mattress. But they didn’t find anything. Just clothes, jewelry, and books.

Toby glumly replaced the socks back in the drawer he pulled them out of. If there was anything hidden in the house it wasn’t in here. So all they’d managed to accomplish was violating Dr. Lake’s privacy. But if there wasn’t anything in her bedroom then where else would--

“Toby,” Claire spoke up, startling him “Do you know if this house has a crawlspace, or an attic?”

He paused with his hand halfway out of the sock drawer. The Lakes had both a crawlspace and an attic. He’d seen the crawlspace, a small cubby in the basement full of their Christmas decorations, but the attic--

Dr. Lake had only mentioned once that they did have an unfinished attic, even shown him where it was.

And then said that he should never ever go up there.

“Their crawlspace is full of Christmas decorations, but I’ve never seen inside the attic. Dr. Lake said it was off limits,”

That got the girls’ attention.

Mary got to her feet “Where is it?”

“Closet, in the ceiling,”

Immediately they all made a beeline towards the closet, Mary pulling open the doors and revealing the square cut out of the plaster in the ceiling. 

Claire frowned “How is one of us supposed to get up there?”

“I’ll do it guys,” Darci stepped forward, shoulders square and mouth set in a firm line “I’m the tallest, just give me a boost,”

Positioning themselves directly under the hole, Mary and Claire each grabbed one of Darci’s legs and lifted, allowing Darci to push aside the cut out square of ceiling and poke her head into the darkness of the attic beyond.

“A little higher guys, I need to get a good grip to pull myself up,”

Claire and Mary obliged, raising Darci until she was waist deep in the attic, allowing her to kick off from the palms of their hands and vanish into the dark hole. After a few seconds Toby saw a small light, which had to be from Darci’s cellphone, blink on, illuminating the bare wooden beams of the unfinished space. 

“You see anything Darc?” Mary called up at her.

The light bobbed around in the small space above them, ceiling creaking under her as Darci moved around “Nothing so far, there’s a lot of fiberglass insulation so I have to be careful not to…”

All of a sudden the creaks stopped, the light staying frozen in one spot.

“Darci,” Toby forced the strangled word out “What’s going on?”

Things were silent for a few more seconds before they heard her voice again “There’s a box here guys, and it doesn’t look like Christmas decorations,”

With some tricky maneuvering, Darci managed to push the box down the hole, where Toby and Claire caught it. Quickly moving it off to the side so the three of them could catch Darci as she jumped down. Once she managed to untangle herself from them they all turned their attention back to the box.

Toby pushed it out of the closet so there was enough room for all of them to huddle around it. The box was about the size of a microwave, dark metal and surprisingly heavy for its size. It looked like one of those heavy duty water/fire/apocalypse proof boxes, and fortunately it wasn’t locked, meaning they wouldn’t need the bolt cutters. Trembling, terrified of what he might find, Toby popped the latches and lifted the lid. 

Part of him was worried that when they opened it they wouldn’t find anything but boring adult papers, bills and insurance stuff like that, but one look and he knew that wasn’t going to be the case.

Inside were two black bags, a large plastic one and a small felt one, and some kind of weird plastic rectangle. Mary reached in and pulled out the small bag first.

They all watched her tug the drawstrings open, not even daring to breathe as she turned the bag over and dumped the contents out. 

A bunch of loose teeth and a bundle of black hair in a rubber band tumbled onto her hand.

Just when Toby thought this couldn’t get any more confusing “What the hell is all that?”

Claire poked at one of the teeth sitting in Mary’s palm “This looks like stuff from an animal,”

It certainly did. That hair could easily be fur, and those teeth would have been right at home on a bear’s mouth. Big and sharp and clearly from a meat eater.

A locked freezer full of strange meat, animal parts hidden away in the attic. Toby still couldn’t put the pieces together, but it wasn’t shaping up to be anything good.

They spent a good minute staring at them before Mary poured the teeth and hair back in the bag “We aren’t going to learning anything by staring at teeth, let’s keep going,”

Claire grabbed the large bag just as Mary was replacing the small one, setting it in front of her and untying the straps to peer down inside.

Toby crawled closer “What is it? What’s in there?”

“It looks like...bath bombs,”

“What? No way,” Darci scooted up to Claire’s side and glanced down at the open bag “Huh, it does look like bath bombs,”

It took Toby a few seconds to realize they weren’t talking about actual explosives “Bath bombs,” he said incredulously “You mean like those fizzy scented things you put in the tub, those kind of bath bombs?”

Claire got to her feet “Only one way to be sure, follow me guys,,”

They tailed after Claire down the hall into the bathroom, where she promptly started filling the tub. Once there was about a half a foot of water inside she reached into the bag, pulled out a grainy pink ball, and dropped it in the water.

As they gathered in close and watched, a cloud of pink bubbles fizzed up around the sphere, filling the tub with pink foam and the scent of--

“Huh,” Toby sniffed “Roses,”

Mary reached a hand into the water, swirling it around before emerging slightly pink “It looks like they are just bath bombs,”

Ok this was getting really weird. Bath Bombs and animal parts weren’t exactly criminal, but what were they doing locked up in a secret attic box?

For a long time Toby had thought that the curfew and the locking in the basement was because of what Nana told him. That Dr. Lake was so scared of losing Jim she’d started doing some messed up things in order to keep him.

But after learning about the scars he started wondering if that was actually true. And now after seeing the meat and the animal parts and the bath bombs…

It was starting to look like all of this was just scratching the surface of something a lot bigger.

And there was still one more thing to check out.

After draining and rinsing the tub, they all went back to the bedroom and gathered around the box again, where Toby picked up the final item inside it, the plastic rectangle.

He turned it over a few times, trying to figure out exactly what it was when it clicked, filling him with a jolt of exhilaration.

“Guys I think this is some kind of book,”

Books meant data, information. Maybe even the answers behind the bath bombs, teeth, and weird meat.

Mary kneeled down next to him “Can you get it open?”

“I’m trying, but there’s a combination lock, and the thing’s completely sealed so I can’t just bust it open with the bolt cutters without destroying it, and--”

They all jumped as a deafening chime rang through the house.

The doorbell.

Toby’s heart shot up into his throat like lightning, beating hummingbird fast as the bell kept ringing again and again. 

Hearing the sound shattered his focus like a harsh slap, forcing Toby to remember exactly where he was and what he was doing.

He was in someone else’s house.

They’d come in without permission by breaking into the garage. 

They were breaking and entering.

They were committing a crime.

If they got caught it wouldn’t be extra homework or detention they had to deal with.

If they got caught they would get in real trouble.

For the first time Toby knew he wasn’t being melodramatic when he imagined getting arrested and sent to juvie.

Toby shot his head up and saw that the girls had the exact same panicked, horror-stricken looks on their faces that he knew he had on his. From down below the doorbell kept ringing again and again.

The locked book slipped from his hands and fell to the carpet with a dull thunk.

Oh fuck. 

“Guys we need to get out of here now!”

They all simultaneously jumped to their feet, Claire practically throwing the bag of bath bombs back in the box, and after fumbling with it for a few seconds Toby managed to toss the book in after it, Darci slamming the lid shut while muttering ‘oh god’ over and over again.

Frantically dragging the box back towards the closet, they figured out really fast that getting the box up was going to be a lot harder than getting it down, especially considering they were all freaking out. After running around like idiots for a few seconds, they got it together enough to hoist Darci up to the attic again, and then raise the box to where she could grab it and put it back, before dropping down from the attic herself. 

Meanwhile the doorbell continued to ring over and over, each chime practically giving Toby a heart attack, as they raced around the room, replacing items and shutting drawers and removing every trace of their snooping.

“Claire what the hell are you doing!?” Mary hissed.

Toby glanced over to see Claire standing in the doorway staring down the stairs to where the front door was “C’mon Claire we have to hoof it before Jim and Dr. Lake come in!”

“But...why would Jim and Dr. Lake be ringing the doorbell of their own house?”

Toby, Mary, and Darci all stopped dead

Claire was right, if Jim and Dr. Lake were back they’d just come right in without even touching the doorbell. But then who was ringing it? If it was just a salesman or something wouldn’t they leave as soon as they figured out no one was home? Whoever this was had been ringing the doorbell for nearly five minutes with no sign of stopping.

“New plan!” Mary piped up, voice a full octave higher than normal “Sneak out the back, then circle around through the bushes, act like we’re just out walking and see who it is,”

Toby nodded shakily along with Claire and Darci, leave it to Mary to come up with a plan under extreme pressure.

After double checking and making sure they’d gotten rid of all evidence of their break in, Toby grabbed his tools and ran to the stairs “Quick guys, go go go!” 

Not wasting a second the girls scampered down the stairs on light feet, Toby following after, the unrelenting doorbell even louder on the first floor.

They made a beeline for the back door, Toby going out last and locking it behind them. Following them, he ran over to the fence and, in a feat only possible to the insane amount of adrenaline shooting through his veins, hopped it in two bounds and dove into the shrubbery, joining the girls. 

“Everyone ok?” Darci whispered, crouching low in the undergrowth.

“Yeah,”

“Uh huh,”

“Yep,”

It was all Toby could do not to collapse, gasping for breath and quivering all over from equal parts relief and leftover panic. 

They’d gotten away with it. He was pretty sure they’d gotten away with it. No one had seen them and they hadn’t left any evidence behind. Although they hadn’t had time to wipe their fingerprints off of everything, or get rid of their DNA, hopefully Jim and Dr. Lake wouldn’t realize that their house was broken into at all. And even if they did there was no reason for the four of them to be suspects.

They were fine. No one was going to get arrested.

Although now that the adrenaline was starting to fade, Toby was pretty sure he was going to have some wicked bruises from his landing. 

Mary sank lower the the ground, perched on her hands and knees “Keep to the plan guys, let’s sneak around to the other side,”

They all followed her lead, Toby forcing his breathing to slow and become quieter, crawling through the bushes until they emerged on the sidewalk around the corner. Standing and shaking off the leaves and branches, Toby tucking the cutters, hanger, and stopper in a bush to retrieve later. 

“Let’s go,” Mary took the first steps towards Jim’s house. A few months ago Toby would have thought she was completely relaxed about the whole thing, but now he could see just how on edge she was.

Toby walked after her, along with Claire and Darci, trying to be as casual as humanly possible without completely overdoing it. 

Nothing to see here. Just a group of teens out walking around, as teens did. No criminals here.

He had to try especially hard to act normal as they were heading around the corner of the block, breath catching in his chest as Jim’s house, and the mysterious bell ringer came into sight. 

It was some scruffy looking guy, messy looking beard and jeans and a jacket that had certainly seen better days. Not a particularly scary looking guy, but it certainly didn’t look like he was there to sell anything.

Feeling bolder now that they were out in broad daylight and not at risk of being caught mid-felony, Toby came right up to where the front steps met the sidewalk, the girls stepping up next to him, with scruffy standing less than ten feet away. Fidgeting and pressing the bell every ten seconds or so, face crimped in frustration.

Of course this close they should have realized it was inevitable that the mysterious scruffy man was going to notice them.

“Oh hey!” he jogged across the porch towards them, causing them all to shuffle backwards involuntarily “You kids know the people who live here?”

“Why do you want to know?” Mary said warily

“Oh-- I heard from my buddy that CPS has been sniffing around, and Barb took Jim out of the hospital without checking him out yesterday, so I’m trying to see if they’re ok,”

Instantly uneasy, Toby glanced over at the girls, the three of them looking just as tense as he felt. The whole leaving the hospital without being checked out was news to him and definitely not good. But even more alarming was the fact that although this guy apparently knew Jim and Dr. Lake, Toby had no idea who he was. And by the looks of it, neither did Darci, Claire, or Mary.

“So do any of you know when they’ll be back?”

Claire took half a step forward “Sorry but...who are you again?”

“Oh! Well I…” scruffy trailed off, letting out a gusty breath and running hand through his hair “You see I’m--” all of a sudden he cut off and looked over at them sharply, Toby flinching as the man locked eyes with him.

“Toby! Come on, you know me, right bud?”

His heart stopped, blood running cold. From the corners of his vision he could see the girls pull around him protectively “Who are you, how do you know my name?”

“Come on,” the man grinned, as if they were all old buddies “You know me, from back when I used to live here,”

Toby just kept staring at him blankly. Used to live here? The only person he could think of that used to live here was--

No. It couldn’t be.

He looked at him again, really looked, comparing the shape of the jaw, the scraggly beard to the ones from his murky, half faded memories.

“Hang on,” Toby slowly raised a finger to point at the stranger who might not be a stranger “You mean that you’re--”

“That’s right,” he flashed them a smile, painfully familiar now that he could see the resemblance “I’m Jim’s dad,”

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #A Secret's Worth #rmvwrites #fanfic #toby domzalski #darci scott #mary wang #claire nuñez #nana domzalski #nancy domzalski